Book 1: Harry Potter and the Choices that Matter
by adeadlife44
Summary: AU: Harry has his world turned upside down when he is taken from the Dursleys. Vernon and Petunia will spend five-years in prison for child abuse and neglect. Harry struggles through his new life at a boarding school for military bound boys. Harry struggles to fight his demons and learn about magic when he is brought into the wizarding world three years later at the age of eleven.
1. Chapter 1: A Change in Routine

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling._

_A heads up, this is not a harem novel. There will be a love interest, or two, but in the end, there will only be one. Will it be canon? I have mixed feelings about Ginevra and Harry. Ultimately, it will depend on where the characters develop. I plan on changing things. There will be praising and bashing where warranted. Character deaths will happen, some canon, some not. I am a huge fan of Harry Potter and many associated Fan Fictions. This story is mainly for me to improve my writing while I contemplate my various other projects. I am an amateur writer. Please feel free to review on the good and the bad. More Authors Notes (AN) as the story fleshes itself out. There will be new characters, though minor, and there will be changes to major ones. Thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy._

**Chapter 1: A Change In Routine**

Lightning flashed among the dark clouds, visible through the opaque window of the circular, opulent office. The crash of thunder swept through the room as an old man with half-moon spectacles, a crooked nose, and long flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache looked up from a yellowish bit of parchment unfurled on the desk. A high-pitched squeal sounded over the thunder. His bright eyes searched the office for the commotion. The sound coming from an hourglass-like instrument on a side table by the fireplace. In the middle of the hourglass sat a vial of red liquid, its circular metal holder flashing bright red. A small black weather vane spun above the metal holder. It scraped the glass with each pass as it spun faster and faster, creating an ear-splitting racket.

The old man jumped to his feet, his chair falling back and knocking over a vase on a small side table. His eyes were wide as he stared at the offending instrument. "The boy!" he cried as his heart pounded. "Come Fawkes!" he ordered as he drew his wand from inside his purple robes. Fawkes, having woken up because to the thunder, screeched and took off from his perch. As soon as the phoenix landed on the old man's outstretched hand, they both disappeared with a loud crack. Surprised voices called out to each other from portraits around the office as another crash of thunder echoed around the room. The cacophony of noise ceased for a moment as the instrument on the table stopped its shrieking and went still. The vial in the middle had broken, spraying blood over the glass casing.

**XXXXX**

Harry James Potter stood in line with six other young boys as they stared at their new home, illuminated by brief flashes of lightning. Life had gone from tolerable to horrible in his opinion since he'd found himself half-naked outside a police station. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia Dursley were not the nicest guardians he could ask for, but they at least took him in after his parents died in the car crash. Their son Dudley, or Dudders, popkins, Duddydums, little tyke, or baby angel, was a beefy boy prone to tantrums to get his way. Harry and his cousin Dudley were both seven, an important age if you ask Aunt Petunia. She would waffle on about how important big boys were once they reached the age of seven. They could stay up later and watch television, go outside with their friends to play for the afternoon, or get as much ice cream at the ice cream shop as they wanted as long as your name wasn't Harry Potter. If your name was Harry Potter, then you had more chores to do as a big boy. Harry's new responsibilities included cooking, cleaning, gardening, sweeping, vacuuming, and a whole list of other daily chores.

The group of soaked and sullen boys trudged through the rain along the paved path. Two tall men in dark jackets flanked the boys as the bus honked its horn and pulled away. It drove around the fountain, illuminating the pristine sidewalk in front of the boys before driving off down the long street. Water soaked through Harry's light shirt as he tried not to cry. Life hadn't been great, but at least he knew what to expect. Harry knew to expect punishments for any infraction of the rules. He couldn't talk back, ask questions, do anything strange, or embarrass the family. Uncle Vernon preferred using his belt, starvation, and locking Harry in the cupboard as the punishments for any infraction.

The night he'd brought home a letter to Uncle Vernon from the Headmistress of a local school changed his life forever. That morning, Harry found himself on the roof after trying to get away away from Dudley and his gang. They chased him around the schoolyard until he attempted to jump into a trash bin. He didn't remember how he got on the roof and knew he hadn't climbed on anything to get there. One moment he was going to jump behind a trash bin, the next he was on the roof. The school called the Fire Department to get him down.

It hadn't been the first time strange or unusual things had happened around Harry. No one believed him when he explained he didn't know how or why strange things happened. When Aunt Petunia had cut off all his hair except his bangs to "hide that horrible scar," it had grown back the very next day. He got a week in his cupboard and a belt thrashing for that incident. Another time he'd made Dudley's favorite toy disappear out of the car on the way to the doctors. His cousin had hit him over the head with the truck in a tantrum moments before the truck vanished. When they found the truck on the road, Harry received a week in his cupboard. He tried to explain he couldn't have thrown the truck out of the car because the windows were rolled up. Uncle Vernon never listened to his pleas.

Aunt Petunia would report any of Harry's wrongdoings to Uncle Vernon the moment he came home from work. Dudley delighted in telling on Harry whenever he could. Harry would spend hours on end staring at the cobwebs above his little bed, thinking, hoping someone would come to take him away. Nightmares of Uncle Vernon chasing him with a belt plagued his dreams. Sometimes, the dreams ended in a flash of bright green light and a high, cruel laugh.

The night Harry returned home with the letter from the Headmistress about climbing school buildings, Uncle Vernon beat him with his belt in the kitchen. Uncle Vernon had pushed Harry down and lashed him with the buckle side of the belt. Harry cried and begged his uncle to stop. It shocked him when the lashings stopped. He remained still, not wanting to anger his uncle again. He lay whimpering in a ball before he realized he could hear cars and people. Peeking through a gap in his arms, he goggled at the world around him. He wasn't in the kitchen with his aunt, uncle, and cousin but instead lay on the sidewalk outside the local police station. One of the policemen approached, his eyes wide and alert.

Aunt Marge had been drunk, horrified, and downright murderous toward Harry when the police informed her of the news. They required her to pick her nephews up as next of kin. She tried to deny ever knowing Harry but the police wouldn't hear what she had to say. Harry stayed in the hospital for days as an army of doctors and nurses ran tests on him. Many of the nurses gave him candy and let him sit with them during their shifts. Aunt Marge, spitting with drunken anger, sent Harry off with an acquaintance of hers to a boarding school before she took Dudley back to her home.

Lights flickered from overhead fixtures as the six boys entered the closest building. The building was three-stories high with narrow, horizontal windows on the second and third floors. The dark brick on the outside made the structure look foreboding in the dark. A shiver ran down Harry's spine as he felt the cool air brush across his wet clothes. "All right, cadets. You will march up the stairs and separate into a group of four. The two of you leftover will be sleeping on cots in the hall. MARCH!" the tall man in the dark raincoat ordered. His voice echoed around the dimly lit atrium. The boys scrambled up the stairs, trainers making horrendous squelching noises on the tiled floor.

Harry was the last one up the stairs, having tripped over his own feet on the bottom step. His hand and elbow felt bruised as he looked down the long hallways to either side of the main stairwell. Light illuminated the dark floors in from windows at the ends of each of the halls. From outside the wide window in the stairwell, he could see a well-maintained lawn and what looked like a playground, complete with walls to climb and tunnels to play in. "_Maybe, things wouldn't be so bad?_" he thought to himself, a bubble of warmth spreading across his cold chest.

Harry found out that he'd been wrong to hope the next day. It took the better part of three months for him to settle into his new life. Providence Preparatory Boarding School was a harsh, structured school for military bound boys. Aunt Marge, who was now his legal guardian, refused any contact with him when he begged the school to call her. She told the school he was no longer part of the family. When Harry got on the phone, she ordered him to stay at the school and join the military to die when he was of age. It didn't shock him to hear how much Aunt Marge hated him as she used her English bulldog, Ripper, to chase him around whenever she came to visit.

One of the few good things Harry noticed about his new life was the ability to eat three meals a day and didn't have half the chores as he had before. A small, yet significant, change to his daily life that made up for the rest of the poor experience he had at the new school.

**XXXXX**

Albus Dumbledore paced his office as he cataloged the information he'd discovered. Vernon and Petunia Dursley were serving five-year sentences for child abuse and neglect. The Blood Wards failed the moment Petunia received a guilty verdict. She would no longer shelter the boy in her heart or home. Harry was still missing, having not been with Vernon's sister, Marge, and his cousin when he arrived. When reading Marge's memory, he'd discovered she'd had the boy sent off to a private boarding school.

Dumbledore's chief obstacle was, Marge couldn't remember which associate she'd given Harry to. He was shocked at how much Marge hated Harry. She pawned the young boy off to one of her contacts and washed her hands of him. Dumbledore tried tracing where her money went by questioning Marge's bank manager to no avail. Days later, he still didn't have an answer. He'd questioned anyone he could find that had contact with Harry. After questioning the doctors and nurses who treated Harry as a last-ditch effort, he retreated to Hogwarts to plan.

Harry was alive, of that he was sure, and somewhere within the United Kingdom. He'd tried every boarding school he could think of in the surrounding area, personally visiting many in his search. His worry grew when magic failed to produce results. The scrying spells he used produced inconclusive images. After a week passed, he bowed his head to the inevitable. He'd been putting off informing Cornelius Fudge, The Minister of Magic, for as long as possible. Sitting at his desk, he sighed and drew out a parchment. Dipping his quill in the inkpot on his desk, he penned a rough outline of the recent events surrounding The-Boy-Who-Lived.

**XXXXX**

"Evans, get back in line with the rest," Instructor Elliot ordered as he paced in front of the column of boys.

Ninety-six boys of different ages stood in nine columns in front of the instructor. Jason Elliot was a tall, muscular man with a pinched face, narrow broken nose, and dark eyes. His graying buzz-cut hair did little to hide the bald spot growing on the crown of his head. Dressed in dark fatigues, he directed the morning exercises with ruthless precision. Any infraction to his many rules would incur a punishment of physical activity, most notably push-ups.

Harry saluted and responded before running back to the fourth column and slipped into the open space toward the back. He'd underperformed in the last set of crunches and had to perform twenty push-ups. James Evans was his name at Providence, no matter how many times he explained that his name was Harry Potter. Aunt Marge, or whoever enrolled him, had entered him in as his middle name and mother's last name. The letters from his new guardian, Mr. Lewis, held little information. He explained to Harry that he was to stay at school and not cause trouble. Harry wrote back, asking how Aunt Marge had the right to remove his last name of Potter or even his first name of Harry. Mr. Lewis ignored all his letters. The short, white-haired older man picked Harry up for the holidays and dropped him back off at school when it was time for the term to start. Harry spent one week at a time in the cheapest motel Mr. Lewis could find for his holiday breaks. He spent his days alone, watching the time tick by and trying to make the best of it. In the three years he knew Mr. Lewis, the older man spoke to him a handful of times in terse, broken sentences.

"We will now do drills for the next thirty minutes, then you are free to go to breakfast. Up-down drills begin… now," Instructor Elliot ordered, looking at his watch.

The entire group of boys dropped to the compacted dirt that made up the training field. They did ten push-ups before standing and doing ten jumping jacks before repeating the process over again. Instructor Elliot required them to do the exercise without rest for the full thirty minutes or face his wrath. With practiced ease, Harry preformed the task, letting his mind wander. He'd noticed, with some pleasure, how tall and muscular he'd become over the last few years. While living with the Dursleys, he'd worn oversize shirts and pants, couldn't lift a cast-iron skillet, and looked like a pale stick. Harry enjoyed his current look. His shirts were tight across his wiry frame and he could lift his body weight with ease.

"Can't wait for the summer break," Gary Perry muttered as the boys jogged to the mess hall after Physical Education.

"Tell me about it," Dennis Owens muttered back as they passed under the wide arch. The stern face of Instructor Pearson watched the boys from the upper floor of the atrium. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the two talking boys.

"Perry, Owens, you will be disciplined when you reach my class. You know you are forbidden to speak unless spoken to, even to your fellow cadets." Her voice pierced the rhythmic beat of the jogging boys. The two boys she'd called out paled and started, almost falling over one another in their shock.

Harry jogged past the stricken boys and swallowed his fear. Instructor Pearson was an older, plump woman who enjoyed the liberal use of a switch when disciplining cadets. Harry fervently hoped to make it through each day without gaining the 'interest' of his instructors. Unfortunately, every single cadet had at least one infraction a day, despite their best efforts otherwise.

Harry enjoyed the hour for breakfast, as it allowed his muscles to relax before classes. The cadets had limited personal time. They had fifteen minutes to jog to their classes. Math, Science, English, Social Science, Foreign Languages, and Enrichment Programs were one hour classes. They had Physical Education from 06:00 to 07:00 every day before breakfast and 15:00 to 16:00 every afternoon, including weekends. Providence didn't believe in giving their cadets much time to themselves outside of doing homework and structured activities. The day started at 05:30 and ended at 20:00, seven days a week. On the weekends, Enrichment Programs replaced Science and Social Science. The programs were electives that each cadet could choose from. The vast majority of the boys chose things like Automotive Skills, Life Skills, and Emergency Response, knowing they would be useful in the military. Harry opted for Woodworking and Sports Medicine, a new elective choice available that year.

"When is your guardian picking you up, Evans?" a tall, lean boy asked as he toweled himself off.

"Sometime tomorrow around zero-six, probably," Harry answered with a grunt. He pulled his socks off his feet and tried not to gag at the smell. Their last Physical Education class of the day had been in the rain.

"Last day of the term always drags on," another boy called from a cot across the small room.

"Who are you telling, Franks," another boy muttered and cursed as he rubbed his foot. "Should have worn double socks today."

"You going to follow Freak Evans' insanity?" another boy groused. Harry wasn't one of the more popular cadets at the school.

"Insanity or not, I never see him with blisters on his feet," the boy answered with a laugh.

"Thin wool on the inside, thick wool on the outside. Gray's dad was talking about that over the break," Harry called, rolling his eyes. He knew the other boys didn't like him because of the accidents that happened around him. The Dursely's name for him of "freak" seemed to follow him to his new home.

"Don't bring me into this," Gray called from the far end of the hall. "Dad is always talking about the bloody army."

A loud siren silenced the chatter and noise made by the cadets as they readied for bed. "Lights out," Harry muttered and lay back in his bed. The lights overhead cut off, plunging the entire room into darkness and the sound of locks slamming into place echoed around the room. The small sliver of moonlight from the only window illuminated the metal door nearest his bed. He wondered if his summer break would be as lonely as all the others had been.

"Enjoy your break, freak," one boy called as Harry went to wait by the fountain.

"See you next term, Evans. I'll pay you back for yesterday!" another boy yelled from the window of a passing car.

Harry winced as he shifted his rucksack on his shoulder. Pain lanced down his side where he knew at least one bruise was forming. He fought a grin as he felt his knuckles throb in response. A black Ford Escort with tinted windows came to a stop in front of Harry. A sour, white-haired older man sat in the front seat wearing a black driving cap, his eyes fixed ahead of him. Mr. Lewis didn't speak as Harry loaded his rucksack into the back seat and slid in.

They rode in silence, Harry having learned long ago to never speak to Mr. Lewis unless spoken to. He stared out the window as he tried to guess where the old man would take him for the first week of his break. A bubble of excitement ran through is chest when Harry realized Mr. Lewis turned toward London rather than out into the countryside. An hour later, the car stopped in front of Lennon Bed and Breakfast, a three-story building standing on the corner of the street. Mr. Lewis got out of the car and looked at Harry for the first time. His hard, dark eyes glared at Harry for a moment before turning and entering the reception area. Twenty minutes later, Harry sat alone in the rented room on the second floor, flicking through the limited number of channels on the small television.

It was bright the next morning as he stood in front of the small bed-and-breakfast. It took a few minutes to find where the closest library was. The owner, Mrs. Kennedy, took a liking to him when he explained his guardian was already at work. It was a standard explanation that no one looked too hard into. She praised him for his dedication to his school work and offered to let him use the dining room to study in so he could ask her questions if needed. Harry smiled and politely declined, stating he'd be at the library most of the day.

The summer was shaping up to be a good one for Harry as the days passed. His "holiday freedom" as he liked to call it was always fraught with worrying about being caught without a guardian and staving off boredom. Mr. Lewis or Marge paid for his hotels, his meals, and any small expenses. One of the few things he looked forward to was the chance to watch television whenever he wanted. He'd always wondered where the money they spent on him was coming from. Harry couldn't imagine any of the Dursleys paying out of their pocket for him if they could avoid it. He knew Providence was an expensive school by the talk between other cadets. Many parents felt honored to enroll their children in the prestigious school.

At the start of every vacation, he received a little money to buy clothing or other personal items, but it was never much. Mr. Lewis ordered Harry to stay inside and never cause trouble during the holiday breaks. Harry learned to talk his way out of having his guardian called by passing peace officers and concerned mothers. When he got in trouble, Mr. Lewis always showed up within a few hours, complaining about being pulled away from work. He scolded his charge for running away from the babysitter. It amazed Harry how the old man got away with abandoning Harry every holiday.

His nightmares lessened as he settled into the various motels, bed-and-breakfasts, and guest houses he stayed at. The bruises on his body and knuckles faded as the weeks flew by. Every morning, he kept his routine like he was still at Providence. It was a familiar routine and helped him cope with loneliness and unfamiliar beds. One of his favorite pastimes was reading a fantasy book while listening to whatever was on the idiot box.

Harry's eleventh birthday was fast approaching. He had two close calls with concerned adults since the start of his summer. He'd been walking back from the library one day when a patrol car had stopped him. Able to bluff his way out again, he escaped back to the cheap motel and holed up for a day or two before adventuring back out to the closest library. The second time was an overly concerned mother, demanding to speak to his mother about letting a child wander off alone. He'd escaped the zealous woman and from then on stopped going to the local park to exercise.

Mrs. Duncan stopped him on the way to his room, narrowing her eyes at him. "Excuse me, Mr. Evans. I haven't seen Mr. Lewis in the last few days. Who has been watching you?"

Harry froze for a moment before flashing a smile at the older woman. "He's been home every night, late. You haven't seen his car? Maybe Mr..." he trailed off trying to come up with a name, "Oh right, Mr. Elliot was his name, might have been carpooling early." The image of his Physical Education Instructor and Mr. Lewis sitting in the same car made him laugh a little. "You couldn't miss Mr. Elliot. He's bigger than me and you put together with all those muscles."

Mrs. Duncan looked taken aback and pursed her lips. "I haven't seen any one like that or Mr. Lewis recently. I watch over my tenants, all of them." She eyed the boy before her and shook her head. "If you will have Mr. Lewis come round in the next day or so. I have some choice words for him." A scowl crossed her face before shaking her head. "Either way, one Mr. H. Potter has a letter addressed to your room number. You wouldn't happen to know who that is?"

Harry started, shocked at hearing his real name after so long. "Uh, I go by Harry Potter sometimes. My, uh, friends think it's a joke and all that," he answered, his voice going flat toward the end.

"Hmmm," Mrs. Duncan hummed and eyed him. "Here is your letter then Mr. H. Potter." She thrust an envelope into his hands that was thick and heavy. The yellowish parchment felt as old as it looked. The emerald-green ink on the front of the envelope read:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 21

Alwyn Guest House

Chiswick

London

Turning the envelope over, he saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. Turning the envelope back over he realized it had no stamp. "Thank you," he muttered to Mrs. Duncan and walked toward his room. He turned the envelope back over to look at the crest again. In the last three years, no one had called him Harry or even Potter. The crest was a mystery to him. He tried to remember all the crests he'd studied in Social Sciences class. Once he was inside his room, he sat down on the bed and slit the envelope open.

The paper was the same heavy and yellowing parchment as the letter. He realized there were two sheets of paper as he unfolded the letter to read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

"What the bloody hell is this," Harry cursed and turned the first page over, looking for a joke card or something to make sense of the letter. Turning the letter back over, he reread the page. "Supreme Mug… what?" he questioned, a bubble of laughter rising in his chest. "Oh, I wonder if it's like one of those Myth books, with all those crazy names. Skeeve the Wizard, well Magician I guess he was. Still, what an awesome prank. I didn't realize any of the other cadets knew I liked to read fantasy."

Chuckling, he put the page down and shook out the second, yellowish page. He frowned, not expecting the prank to continue. The frown deepened as he read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

_Uniform_

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothing should carry name tags.

_Course Books_

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Draughts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

_Other Equipment_

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"That is by far the coolest book list someone has come up with. Granted, those names are dreadful. Phyllida Spore sounds like a venereal disease Mrs. Burke would talk about." He flipped over the heavy page to look for the prankster's name. When he had no luck, he opened the envelope and peered inside, looking for clues. Stymied at every turn, he shrugged and tossed the pages on the bed next to the envelope. A knock at the door made him jump. With a curse, he rubbed his shin from where he hit the metal bed frame.

"Uh, who is it?" he called, his voice trembling. Anyone who knocked on his door would be bad news for him. Mr. Lewis entered with his key and never knocked.

"I am looking for Mr. Harry James Potter. My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," a muffled voice called through the door. Harry thought the voice sounded a little old to be continuing a prank.

"Hah, pull the other one Mr. uh, Dundledoor?" he answered, trying to remember what the person had said. The last few minutes had been very confusing.

"Dumbledore, but you may call me Professor instead if you like," the voice called with a small chuckle. "May I come in, Harry?"

Harry blinked and weighed his options. "I don't think that would be safe, ah, Professor. My guardian is in the shower and he doesn't like guests," he lied, trying to come up with a reason, any reason, for his day getting weirder.

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley are still in prison, Harry," the voice called again, sounding patient and not at all upset by Harry's refusal to open the door.

"They are what?!" the young man yelped and stared at the door. "Uh, I'm going to open the door. I've got a weapon if you try to hurt me though and my guardian is in the shower!" He took a step toward the door and unbolted the latch. Turning the handle, he peeked out of the door and froze when he saw the person standing outside his door.

Bright blue eyes stared down at him behind long silvery hair. The old man's beard was impressive, almost reaching his stomach. He wore purple clothing that looked like it might have been a window curtain at one point. Harry had never seen a dress that looked so bulky. He supposed it might be a magician's robes, but that was only in fantasy books. The odd cosplayers of Dungeons and Dragons popped into his head as he looked the older man up and down again. He'd heard about sightings of groups of these odd people from old news reports. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle behind his half-moon glasses as he peered down at him. "Uh, what?" Harry asked with growing alarm.

"I can explain if you let me in, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore chuckled. "I mean you no harm."

"Uh, sure," Harry answered and took a step back, taking the sight of the older man in again. He wondered if he was doing the right thing, letting a loon like this Dumbledore character into his room.

"I assure you, I am not crazy. Now, I have a few questions, if you don't mind indulging my aging curiosity. You see, you've been missing for a little over three years now." Dumbledore said, taking a seat in one of the old reclining chairs by the curtained window.

"Huh?" Harry asked, closing the door while keeping his eyes on the odd man. He didn't think he'd been missing at all. Mr. Lewis enrolled him in Providence and he'd received a letter from Aunt Marge about Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia disowning him.

"You were living with your uncle and aunt, Vernon and Petunia Dursley until the Muggle police arrested them for child abuse. I would first like to say I am deeply sorry for anything I put you through by sending you to your uncle and aunts. It was a hard choice to make as I knew they weren't perfect, but I never knew you'd be hurt. Have a rough life, yes. Grow up with few friends, maybe. I'd hoped my fears were unfounded, but there was a chance. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect you to be abused. For that, I humbly ask for your forgiveness." The old man stood and bowed to Harry, his eyes sparkling with moisture.

"Uh, yeah, I forgive you, I think," Harry muttered, baffled by the course of the conversation. How had this old man been responsible for sending him to his aunt and uncles? "Wait, did you hit my mum and dad with your car? I thought the man that killed them was dead," he questioned, his eyes narrowing.

"Hit Lilly and James Potter with a car?" Dumbledore questioned, his voice raising an octave. "Why would I hit them with a Muggle car? Lord Voldemort murdered them on Halloween ten years ago."

Harry stumbled back a little. His legs hit the side of the bed and he sat down, crushing the letter under him. "Murdered?" he questioned. The sense of wrongness to his day increased. He felt dizzy like in one of his many nightmares.

"Yes, has your aunt and uncle not explained anything to you? I left them a letter."

"A letter?" Harry questioned. He felt the scar stretch as his eyebrows rose. "You left them a letter for me? Or for them to explain what happened to me? I'm getting a little angry now. First, the prank with the spell book things and now some Dungeons and Dragons wizard wannabe is sitting in my room!"

"Dungeons and Dragons?" the older man questioned. "We have dungeons at Hogwarts but tend to stay away from dragons as they have a nasty habit of breathing fire and eating nearly everything they come across."

Harry groaned and shook his head, wondering if the old man was crazy despite his claim otherwise. He felt the conversation was going nowhere, fast. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. I am Harry Potter, you are Albus uh, three names? Four names? Dumbledore. I'm a cadet at Providence Preparatory Boarding School and you are…" he trailed off remembering what the older man had said. "Headmaster of this Hogwarts School of Wizardcraft. A School of Wizards… like whatever this letter was?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes, a school for wizards. Harry, you are a wizard and I have come to invite you to our world… now that you are old enough," Dumbledore said with a small smile.

"Oh… kaaay," Harry answered and frowned at Dumbledore.

"I believe a demonstration will explain more than words could ever convey." With that, an ornate white wooden stick seemed to appear in the old man's hand. He waved it once and a large, gilded throne appeared beside the bed next to where Harry sat, stunned.

"BLOODY HELL!" Harry shouted and fell back onto the bed. He scooted away from the strange man and the even stranger appearing chair.

Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head. "Language, but I think I'll let it pass for now."

"Uh, yeah, sorry, sir" Harry muttered, staring wide-eyed at the chair. It was high-backed with red cushioning, bronze rivets, and made from ash. "I like the joint work," he muttered, casting a critical eye over the legs and backing to the chair.

"Thank you, some don't appreciate the subtle details involved in conjuration," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Now, I do believe you'd want to touch the chair to ensure I am not playing tricks on you, no?"

Eyeing the old man, Harry got off the bed, on the opposite side from where Dumbledore sat. He ran a hand over the chair's back. The fabric was silky and soft, more so than it should be from the look of it. The wood was hard and didn't appear to have any tool marks around the joints. The only nails he saw were small ones that held pieces of cloth in place. "So, magic is real, and I'm a wizard. I guess that explains why everyone thinks I'm a freak? Doing magic without meaning to. I'd wondered, dreamed, I could do magic, but this is the real world and not a fantasy."

"Accidental magic during your childhood manifests in different ways. High stress or extreme emotional events in young witches and wizard's life may cause them to perform magic. You, however, are not a freak. Muggles, non-magical people like your aunt and uncle, have trouble understanding magic and see it as something... different. Many times humans are afraid of what they do not understand."

"You left me with them, knowing they might hate me for being, well, me?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowing. He felt his chest growing tight.

"The situation was not ideal. Your parents had just been murdered. Voldemort's followers were still on the loose, still angry at his disappearance. I decided to trust in your family's blood to protect you during your darkest hour. Again, I had no idea it would ever escalate to what happened to you." Dumbledore said, his shoulders slumping a little. He seemed to age a little as he stared into nothing in front of him. "I regret that decision; however, I can't say I wouldn't make it again. Your survival was of more importance than any possible outcome that might occur in the future. I was wrong but I stand by my decision."

Harry took a moment to work through what he'd heard. "So, this Voldemort kills my parents and his followers wanted to find me to kill me? I'm missing something."

"I have done a poor job explaining. Harry, please sit." The older man gestured to the conjured chair. After Harry sat down, he continued. "Voldemort is a Dark Lord, one of the worst of our time. Wizards have a habit of doing what is worst for them at the best of times. Humans, in general, do this but I digress. Your parents were two of the strongest and bravest witch and wizard I have ever had the pleasure to teach and know. We fought against Voldemort. He was trying to take over by any means necessary. He bribed, blackmailed, promised, and controlled anyone he could to get what he wanted. Dark days, Harry. Witches and Wizards were disappearing. Muggles were being murdered for sport. At the height of his power, he attacked your parents. Something happened that night, something he didn't expect. Love is the strongest and most ancient form of magic. Your mother protected you and when he went to kill you, it rebounded upon him. That night Voldemort was defeated."

"Why did he go after my mum and dad? After me?" Harry questioned, leaning forward in his seat.

"Ah, that," Dumbledore trailed off, his eyes searching Harry's face. "I know you don't want to hear this but, when you're older, when you are ready. Then we will discuss the why. Suffice to say, the fact that you defeated Voldemort has made you into a hero among our community. Some were even calling to rename Halloween into 'Harry Potter Day'. That, thankfully, was rejected."

Harry started and blinked. "Harry Potter Day?" he questioned. "I'm a hero? But it was mum who saved me? How am I the hero?"

"The killing curse, a dark and horrible spell, has never been stopped. We can't shield against it with magic. It is an unforgivable spell that takes the life of anyone it hits. Except when it hit you that night. It rebounded upon its caster… Voldemort. That makes you famous, that makes you a hero."

"Kinda dumb if you ask me," Harry muttered.

Dumbledore laughed and smiled. "It simply is. You are a hero to the wizarding world. Now you know how you got to the Dursleys. May I know what happened after?" His eyes searched Harry's, a look of concentration forming on his face.

Harry sighed and leaned back into the chair. The cushion seemed to become softer and wrapped around his body in a light embrace. "I guess you couldn't call it horrible. They had me do chores and stuff. Dudley got whatever he wanted and I cleaned. I lived in a cupboard under the stairs and he lived in a bedroom with a spare one for all his toys. Uncle Vernon was, strict. I was a freak and was disciplined for it. Aunt Petunia didn't like me but she," he trailed off trying to come up with words to express his feelings.

"What happened that night three years ago?"

"I don't know, really. One moment I was being disciplined by Uncle Vernon's belt and the next I was outside the police station. They bundled me off to the hospital. They got my name and where I lived. By the time I got out, Marge or Mr. Lewis enrolled me in Providence as James Evans. Vernon and Petunia disowned me and gave me to Aunt Marge to be my new guardian. She gave me to Mr. Lewis, my current guardian. Mr. Lewis brought me to a hotel, sometimes six to seven different ones for the holidays. I do whatever they tell me at Providence, get decent marks, and stuff."

"That is all behind you now. Hogwarts is a school where you can learn to harness your power and join the community and family you were meant to have. You are not a freak. If you had that many accidental magic occurrences, then you very well may be a strong wizard. Both your mother and father were. I offer you a chance, a chance to become what you were meant to. If I heard you correctly, the subject of spell books interested you. Would you like to learn how to conjure things like the chair you sit upon? Change the very fabric of reality with a wave of a wand?"

"I'm a wizard, huh?" Harry chuckled and shifted his weight around on the chair. Looking up into Dumbledore's bright eyes, he smiled. "Yeah, I think I'd like to learn how to do magic."


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

**AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling._

**Chapter 2: Diagon Alley**

"While I would like to take you to Diagon Alley myself, our London based shopping district, but it would be foolish to do so. You see Harry, I am somewhat popular within our community as well and you wouldn't get a chance to see our world without... complications. I, however, have a solution if you will hear me out," Dumbledore said with a smile. He slipped his wand back into his purple robes as his eyes searched Harry's face.

"Uh, okay, sir?" Harry answered. A cold feeling began to sink to the bottom of his stomach.

"Hagrid, our Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts will arrive tomorrow morning at eight AM. He is most excited to see you again."

"Keeper of Keys? What an odd name," Harry muttered but nodded to the older man. "Sorry, I was just excited to go now."

"Quite understandable. I was overjoyed when I received my acceptance letter when I was your age. Good things come to those who wait though. I promise it will be an experience like none other. There is one last thing we need to discuss," Dumbledore said as he sat forward. "You cannot continue to live alone. The wizarding world protects its young, almost to an unhealthy level. This is not without reason. There are fewer wizards in the world compared to Muggles and the deaths of any effect our community. I will ask you to decide by the end of tomorrow. There are rooms, similar to the one you have here, available in Diagon Alley. You would have some freedom but not much. I will assign a caretaker of sorts to you. The other option is to move in with a wizarding family; it would delight them to have you over. I know restricting your freedom might be distasteful, but it is necessary."

Harry tried not to frown. The thought of another family taking him in wasn't pleasant. Restrictions on free time didn't bother him much, nor was having a caretaker to watch over him. He supposed it made sense they would want to monitor him. Every adult he'd ever met wanted the same thing. "I'll go with the first option."

"Very good," Dumbledore said with a smile. He stood and so did Harry. "I believe leaving evidence of magic would be a poor idea." With a wave of his hand, the chair behind the young boy disappeared. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Harry. We will meet again, soon. My door is always open to you if you need anything."

"You mean at Hogwarts, sir?" Harry asked, looking up into the older man's eyes.

"Yes, if you have questions or need assistance, please use me as a resource. While my time is important, so are all of my students. Also, Harry, it's Professor now. Professor Dumbledore, not Sir. I am old enough as it is," he said with a small smile. His bright eyes twinkling.

Harry watched as Professor Dumbledore left the room, closing the door behind him. The entire, strange, conversation replayed over in his mind. Magic was real. With renewed interest, he went over to the bed and picked up the slightly crumpled acceptance letter and supply list. "Wow, this is going to be amazing."

The next morning, Harry awoke at his normal time and exercised. After his shower, he had a few more hours before this Hagrid would arrive. He went downstairs to the small dining room and peeked around the corner. Mrs. Duncan was fussing over a pot of scrambled eggs in the small kitchen. Taking a deep breath, he crept past the doorway and picked up a plate. He snatched up a few pieces of bacon, piled on some eggs, and grabbed a piece of toast as he took off for his room. No one shouted after him to come back and eat in the dining room. After finishing breakfast, he packed everything into his rucksack and slid a small tip under the empty plate on the table.

After putting the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle, he crept out of his room and down the far stairwell. He sat reading a book on a park bench across the street as he waited for this Hagrid person. After the events of the previous day, he went with a newer release from his favorite fantasy author. He hoped Skeeve might have some insight into this wizarding world. Halfway through his book, he looked up to see a giant of a man standing in front of the bed-and-breakfast. A passing man and woman stepped out onto the street to avoid the large man. The giant had long, wild tangled black hair and a large beard. A dark-brown bearskin coat draped over his big frame as he peered down at a piece of paper in his hand. Standing, Harry put his book away, zipped up his bag, and walked across the street.

"Uh, Hagrid?" he called as he approached. As he drew closer, the more alarmed he became. This giant, for he was a giant even compared to people like Instructor Elliot, had hands the size of Harry's head, if not larger.

"Mm?" said the giant as he turned. "Gulpin' gargoyles, 'arry!" he roared and crushed the young boy in a hug.

"Wha?!" Harry squeaked as the giant lifted him off his feet. He thought he was a good three or more feet in the air. The smell of leather, trees, and wet dog assaulted his nose. "P-put me down," he called, fearing his ribs would crack.

"Sorry, Harry," Hagrid said as he placed Harry back down. He took a step back and looked at Harry from head to toe.

"Yeh've got some solid muscle on yeh, just like yer' father. Great man, James, but yeh've got yer' mum's eyes. Been a long time since I saw yeh. Could fit yeh in one of my hands, yeh could. Call me Hagrid, but I suppose Dumbledore told yeh that. Yeh ready to start yer' day?"

Harry's eyes fell on a pink umbrella, much too small for the oversize man, dangling from the wide belt at his waist. "Uh, yeah, I'm ready," he answered, wondering what other surprises the day would bring.

"Bit of a walk, but we'll get there. Yeh ready to kip off?"

"Whenever you are," Harry said. He had to jog to keep up with the long strides of the enormous man. Hagrid got stuck in the Underground and complained the seats were too small, the trains too slow. He'd point to random objects in the street and chuckle. "What these Muggles come up with," he'd say as they passed a parking meter. "I don't get how Muggles can live without magic," he muttered at one point as he clambered up a broken-down escalator. His voice boomed despite his obvious attempts to whisper to Harry.

Harry followed the broad back of the giant, lost in thought. He tried to work out where Diagon Alley might be as they walked down the street. The massive man parted crowds with ease. They passed by bookstores, music stores, hamburger restaurants, and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it sold magic wands. He walked into Hagrid's back as he peered into a bookstore, looking for any of the titles listed on his paper. "Oof," he grunted as he stumbled back.

"Oh, sorry, 'arry," Hagrid said as he turned. "We're here, the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

Harry peered around the large man and frowned. It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. Men, women, and children all walked by the pub, not even looking in its direction. Two drunk men stumbled past without even peering in the open door. He had the nagging feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it. Hagrid took him by the shoulder with one hand and steered him into the pub.

The dark and shabby place looked like it was a set for a horror film. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking from glasses of amber liquid. One woman had a long, yellow beard and was smoking from an ornate pipe. The women wore dark-colored dresses like the one Professor Dumbledore wore. Grime covered every surface he could see, causing his eye to twitch. "_Did anyone think about all the germs that were on those tables?_" he wondered. For a famous place, he wondered if it was one health inspection from getting closed down.

"Hagrid, the usual?" a little bald man in a top hat called from the bar. The low buzz of chatter stopped when Hagrid stepped in behind Harry.

"Can't Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," the giant said, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder.

With a groan, Harry fought to keep his knees from buckling. He froze when he realized the pub had gone completely silent. "Bless my soul, could it be?" the wide eyes of the bald barkeep looked Harry up and down. "It is! Harry Potter," it wasn't a question," what an honor!" With that announcement, pandemonium reigned.

Witches and wizards, many of which Harry hadn't even realized were in the pub, appeared in front of him as if by magic. Chairs fell to the floor, tables overturned, and grown men pushed women aside to get closer. Harry was close to a panic attack, thinking he was being mobbed by an angry group of loonies. His heart thudded in his throat as he fought against the panic rising in his chest. He shook hands with everyone, his back pressed against the thigh of Hagrid. It was the only thing that kept him from running away.

"Cuthbert Mockridge, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"The-Boy-Who-Lived, here! Mr. Potter, I'm so thankful for what you've done for us."

"Always wanted to meet you. My daughter is about your age."

"Wiggleswade, your daughter is nearly eighteen. Robards, Gawain, Mr. Potter it is an honor to meet you."

"Jorkins, I can't wait to see what you do."

Harry and Hagrid escaped the throng after five minutes. Nervous and jumpy, Harry followed close on Hagrid's heels as he made his way through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard. Harry thought they'd gone out the wrong door. There was nothing but a trash can and a few browning weeds near the brick wall.

The giant turned and grinned down at Harry. "Yer' famous, Harry. All those witches and wizards clamoring to meet yeh." He turned and pulled out the pink umbrella. "Right, three up and two across," Hagrid muttered before tapping on the brick three times.

The brick quivered, shook, and seemed to stretch in the middle. A small hole appeared in the middle of the brick before expanding, pushing other bricks out of the way, growing wider and wider. The hole grew wider and longer, making a large archway appear in the brickwork. The arch was large enough for even Hagrid to walk through without ducking his head. "Woah!" Harry gasped as he watched the bricks move.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Hagrid said in a soft voice, a grin making his beard tremble.

Harry stepped through the archway and gasped at the sight before him. The street seemed to be awash with every color imaginable. Witches and wizards were walking up and down the street, their robes flapping. Shops were selling cauldrons outside on little tables, owls swooped overhead, fizzes and bangs punctuated the roar of noise from somewhere up the street. One woman complained about the price of Glumbubble parts as she peered into a bucket on a long table. Harry had never heard of Glumbubble parts or the seven Sickles an ounce the shop was charging for them.

"Hagrid, what does twelve Sickles an ounce mean?" he asked as he peered into a bin labeled Chizpurfle parts. Ten wooden boxes stood in a line on the second shelf where the complaining woman stood. Each had a little note with the name and price of each of the bin's contents.

"Blimey, I forget how much yeh don't know. Sorry, Harry. Wizard currency. Twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle and seventeen silver Sickles to a gold Galleon. Easy enough to remember. We'll be stopping off at Gringotts to pick you up some money."

Harry nodded without looking at the giant. He was peering in the window of a shop that had a broomstick in the window. A boy was pointing at the broom and hopping from one foot to another as he spoke to his friend, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand, fastest ever! My gran promised me to get one if I did well in school."

Shops sold robes, spell books, potion ingredients, pets, trunks, and if the sign was correct, Fanged Frisbees. Harry wondered why someone would want a Frisbee that had fangs on it. Hagrid led them down the winding street to a massive marbled building that stood well above all the other shops. "Gringotts," the giant announced and started up the massive steps. Two squat, clever faced creatures stood outside the burnished bronze doors, wearing uniforms of scarlet and gold. "Goblins," Hagrid muttered as they passed the guards.

Harry noticed the goblins were about a head shorter than he was and had well-manicured, pointed beards and long fingers. They reached the second set of doors and he stopped to read the words engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_ Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_ For those who take, but do not earn,_

_ Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_ So if you seek beneath our floors_

_ A treasure that was never yours,_

_ Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_ Of finding more than treasure there._

"Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob the place," Hagrid muttered as he walked through the doors. Harry noticed his accent was more pronounced when the giant got agitated.

They stood in a long line for one of the goblins, seated on high-backed chairs behind the ornate counter. Harry stared around the lobby as Hagrid led them through a winding path of rope barriers. Goblins were escorting witches and wizards to their destinations, something that looked suspiciously like a hag was in a heated debate with a goblin at the far end of the long counter. Owls swooped around the vaulted ceiling. The sheer amount of gold inlay in every decoration made Harry a little envious of the wealth displayed. When it was their turn, Hagrid stepped up to the counter. He stood a foot taller than the seated goblin who had to lean back in his chair.

"Something I can help you with?" the goblin with a gold monocle asked, his long fingers gripped the quill tighter.

"Morning," Hagrid replied with a smile. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's vault."

"You have his key, sir?"

"Ere' someit'," Hagrid answered and routed around inside his coat pockets. He took out moldy dog biscuits, bits of lint, letters of different sizes, and a tiny golden key. "Ere' it is."

"That seems in order," the goblin answered as he looked at the offending articles strewn across his desk.

Harry watched in fascination as the goblin next to them weighed a large sack of golden coins against a small pile of gems the size of ice cubes. The waiting man drew two more topazes the size of Harry's fist out of his robes with a murderous look on his face. After placing the two gems on the scales, the goblin gave the wizard a nasty grin and confirmed everything was in order. The man didn't look happy as he took the sack of gold and left.

Hagrid tried to whisper as he picked up a letter from the pile. "I've got a letter from Professor Dumbledore about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen." The giant puffed out his chest and grinned.

The goblin took the letter and read the contents using a pair of tiny glasses. "Very well," he said, pursing his thin lips. "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

A squat goblin appeared a moment later as Hagrid put everything back into his pockets. Griphook took the key from the other goblin and asked for them to follow. They followed Griphook to a set of double doors at the side of the hall. Harry wanted to question Hagrid about the other vault, but decided against it. When Griphook opened the door, Harry frowned at the narrow stone passage. He'd been expecting more marble halls. Hagrid had to duck some to make it down the passageway. A small grin on the goblin's face made Harry think they'd been led this way on purpose.

After walking for a minute, they made it to a little area with metal carts on a small railway. Hagrid had difficulty squeezing into the cart. In Harry's opinion, the surprise roller coaster ride was great fun. Hagrid didn't agree. They hurtled at break-neck speed around corners, over pits where you couldn't see the bottom, flew past goblins pushing carts of gold, and even plunged headfirst down a steep incline. It became harder to breathe as they plunged deeper into the mine, for that is what it was. Harry realized Gringotts was a bank over a massive mining system. He could see little goblins chipping away at the stone as they cut the corner around a large stalactite.

Hagrid looked green and trembled as he squeezed himself out of the small cart. Harry stared at a small door set in the chiseled rock of the passageway. The wide metal door looked like it had symbols and drawings all over the door. Griphook took the golden key and inserted it into the lock. The symbols on the door seemed to flash once and Harry could hear the sound of mechanical gadgets activating within the door itself. A moment later, the door swung inward revealing mounds of golden coins, columns of silver, and piles of little bronze disks.

"What?" Harry gasped as he stared around.

"All yers', Harry. Yer mum and dad were rich when tehy passed on. The golden ones are Galleons, the silver is Sickles, an' the bronze disks are Knuts," Hagrid said with a small sigh. "Let me get yeh what yeh'll need for a couple of terms." He reached in his jacket and pulled out a large bag before scooping up a bunch of Galleons, Sickles, and a few Knuts. The cloth bag was fit to bursting as he passed it to Harry.

Harry took the bag with both hands, expecting it to be heavy. It weighed less than three pounds. "How?" he asked, peering into the bag. He drew out a Galleon and felt the heavy weight between his fingers.

"Magic," Hagrid said with a grin. "The bag has a charm on it to make it weigh less. Easy enough to learn once you get to Hogwarts."

Harry goggled at the bag before tying off the drawstring on the top and shoving it into his pocket. The bag seemed to fit into his pocket without taking up more room than it had to. Again, he gasped at the bag and drew it back out again, watching as the bag expanded to its normal size. He put it back in his pocket and drew it out again.

"Come on, Harry," Hagrid called and paled a little when looking at the small cart. "Er, vault seven-hundred and thirteen, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," Griphook answered with a ferocious grin.

The trip down to the next vault seemed to go even faster. The cart hurtled up and down steep inclines, around near right-angle turns, and through narrow holes in the rock. Hagrid had to duck a few times to avoid hitting his head on any protruding rocks. He looked positively sick. The cart arrived a few minutes later and everyone clambered out. Hagrid stood to one side, taking deep breaths of air and holding his stomach. Griphook, a smug grin on his face, waddled over to the massive door with no keyhole. It looked similar to the other vault door except twice in size. Harry noticed familiar symbols engraved on the metal and dark chains crossed near the middle of the door. Griphook touched the door, above the intersection of the chains, and took a step back. The door melted away to reveal, nothing. A white fog billowed out from around the walls of the spacious vault but Harry saw nothing in the vault. No gold, no furniture, not even a spider web. He turned to look at Griphook, wondering if they had the right vault.

"What?" Hagrid mumbled and peered into the vault. A moment later, he grabbed something off the floor. "There we go," he grumbled and shoved something in a brown package into his breast pocket.

The trip back to the surface was rough for Hagrid. He wheezed and gagged as they hurtled down a sharp incline before the cart shot upward again, crushing the occupants into the hard seats. Harry knew Hagrid wasn't having a good time, so he tried to keep his excitement contained. In his opinion, the vault full of gold was marginally better than the roller coaster ride, but it was a close thing. Hagrid wobbled out of the cart once it stopped and took a few minutes to regain his balance. He gagged and choked as he tried to suck in huge gulps of air. "Infernal carts," he muttered as they were led back into the marbled bank.

"Might as well go get yer uniform," Hagrid muttered as he squinted into the morning sun. "I'm goin' to need a pick-me-up after those infernal carts. Do yeh mind?" he questioned as he turned to Harry.

Fighting a grin, Harry nodded and smiled. "I'll just follow my list. Thank you for bringing me here, Hagrid."

Hagrid coughed and shook his head. "Tis' my pleasure, 'arry. Yer mum and dad were my friends. This is teh least I could do. I'll come find yeh once I get my legs back."

Harry watched as the giant strode off, parting the crowd with ease. He smiled and shook his head. Patting the bag in his pocket, he pulled the letter out of the rucksack strapped to his chest. "There is a ton of stuff on this list. I should get something to carry everything in," he muttered and thought back to the many shops they'd passed selling trunks of all sizes.

It took Hagrid a little over an hour to find Harry again. After looking through a few of the shops, Harry settled on a medium-sized trunk that had an Expansion Charm on it. There were more expensive options, but after listening to one wizard debate the pros and cons of the different types of trunks to his friend, he went with a simple version. The Apothecary was a revolting place that made him wrinkle his nose. After asking a few questions, he bought double the recommended amount of ingredients required for Grade 1 students. He also picked up a spare, small metal cauldron on sale, extra ingredient knives, a sharpening stone, and a small stockpile of vials. Potage's Cauldron Shop was a quick stop to get a pewter cauldron. He opted not to get the self-stirring type. He might have had a lot of money now, but he wasn't sure how long it would last if he wasted it.

The brass scales and telescope he picked up from a second-hand shop. To him, the items looked serviceable compared to their more expensive counterparts in the other shops. He saved four Galleons, something he was proud of. There were a number of other interesting things in the shop but he decided to hold off on buying anything else. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was a dull visit, but it checked off robes from his list. He took one look at the pointed hats available and promised himself he wouldn't wear them if at all possible. The winter cloak he got was almost as soft as the cushioned chair Dumbledore had summoned. When he tried it on, he fell in love with the soft, warm feeling the cloak provided. After asking an assistant, he was a little put out that none of the shops sold workout clothes. The young witch he asked looked horrified at the idea of wearing Muggle clothing for something as mundane as exercise.

Hagrid trudged along with Harry, answering many of the questions posed to him by the curious boy. Harry felt a little sheepish at the sheer amount of questions he asked. "I've got to get somet' befer' we leave, Harry. Get yer books at Flourish and Blotts up the road there. Meet yah back here in a bit," he called as he moved off in the opposite direction.

As soon as Harry stepped into the well-lit shop of Flourish and Blotts, he froze. Books covered every available space. He chuckled when he saw three books stuck to the wall by the wide window. Flipping open his list again, he began to wander around the shop in search for his school books. Hagrid had to drag Harry out of the store after two hours had passed. "Harry, yehr just like yehr mum," he chuckled, setting an owl cage down on the street. He helped Harry store a veritable mountain of books into his trunk. Harry was a little alarmed at how full his trunk was getting.

"Hagrid, what's that?" he asked, once he'd packed all the books away.

"A little erly', but Happy Birthday, Harry!" the giant boomed with a wide smile.

Harry froze blinking between the snowy white owl and Hagrid. "My birthday?" he asked, goggling up into Hagrid's eyes. "Uh, thank you," he said in a small voice. Taking the snowy white owl he peered into the cage. The owl's bright eyes locked onto Harry's, causing the boy to shiver a little. Tears threatened to fall as he stuck a finger into the cage and stroked the owl's soft feathers. "Thank you," he muttered again.

"Don' mention it," Hagrid groused. "Don' expect you'd had a lot of presents growing up. Dumbledore filled me in a little 'bout what happened." The giant shook his head, hands clenched into tight fists. "Only thing left is yehr wand. Ollivanders is the only place fer it."

Harry had been looking forward to getting a magic wand but hadn't found the shop where he could buy them. He'd seen some joke wands in Gambol and Japes but hadn't bought one. Hagrid led him back toward the Leaky Cauldron when he stopped at a narrow, shabby building. Peeling gold letters over the door read 'Ollivanders Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.' A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

The tinkling bell announced their arrival as the door opened. Hagrid ducked to get into the shop as Harry followed in behind. It was a tiny shop except for the small spindly chair by the counter. The stale air reminded him of lights out time at Providence. He eyed the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. Holding back a sneeze, his eyes watered and wiped them with the back of his sleeve. When he looked up, an old man was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. He'd appeared out of thin air.

"Ah!" Harry cried out and took a step back. Hagrid jumped off the stool he'd been sitting on with a shout. The stool sounded like it had broken from the loud crack. Harry's heart hammered in his chest as he stared at the shopkeeper.

"Good afternoon," the old man announced in a soft voice.

"Hello," Harry replied with a smile. His heart felt like it would explode out of his chest.

"Ah, yes, I thought I might be seeing you soon. Harry Potter," it wasn't a question. The old man peered down at Harry's face, eyes flicking to the scar on his forehead. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Ollivander took a step back and smiled. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it, really, it's the wand that chooses the wizard of course."

Harry was feeling uncomfortable under the unblinking stare from the older man. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that gave you that scar," Ollivander continued, his voice trailing off. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going to do…"

The older man shook his head and smiled. His luminous eyes turned to Hagrid. "Rubeus! How nice to see you again. Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," Hagrid replied in a morose tone.

"Good wand, that one. But, I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?"

"Er, yes, they did, sir," Hagrid muttered as he put his hand on his pink umbrella looped under his belt.

"Mmm," Mr. Ollivander hummed and squinted his eyes. "Well now, Mr. Potter. Let's find you a wand."

A floating tape measure danced around Harry. It measured him from head-to-toe, around his head, around his wrist and ankles, from shoulder to shoulder, and from his nose to his finger. After a moment, the older man pulled a white box from the pile of boxes. "Right, try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstrings. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and gave it a wave. Ollivander snatched the wand away a moment later. He pulled another box out and passed the wand to Harry. Every wand Harry tried failed to meet the wand maker's expectations. Harry wondered what would happen if he found the right wand. Mr. Ollivander appeared to be having a good time as the pile of tried wands grew. After over forty boxes were strewn across the counter, the older man stopped and stared at Harry. "I wonder… Yes, why not? An unusual combination."

He found the box he was looking for and took it out, opening it and peering inside. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Give it a wave," he ordered as he passed Harry the wand.

As soon as it touched his hand, he realized it was the wand for him. Warmth spread out from the wand, into his hand, and down his arm. His whole body seemed to warm up as a bright, red light flared at the tip of his wand. "Very good, Mr. Potter. Very good. Well, well, well, very curious. Very curious indeed. I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It so happens that the phoenix who is in your wand gave one other feather. Just one. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar."

Harry goggled at the older man in front of him. Trying to digest what he'd heard. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. I think we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things, terrible, yes, but great."

Harry paid seven Galleons for his wand and followed Hagrid out of the shop. They made their way to the Leaky Cauldron where Hagrid bought him a cool drink. "Yeh all right, Harry? Yehr very quiet," Hagrid asked, his large hand falling on Harry's shoulder.

Harry grunted as the weight settled on his shoulder. "Everyone thinks I'm special," he blurted out. Once the dam broke, his words begun spilling out. "Mr. Ollivander said I'm expected to do great things. All those people were excited to see me and were basically treating me like royalty. I saw the stares and whispers as I was shopping today. Not everyone recognized me but a lot of the shop owners did. I know I got a better price for my cauldron. The dark-haired girl behind me was charged almost double for the same cauldron. How can I live up to what they expect if I don't even know a thing about magic? How can I be powerful like my mum and dad?" Harry took a deep breath and drunk a little of the fruity drink, trying to settle his nerves.

"'arry, look at me," Hagrid ordered, his voice sounding stern. Once Harry had looked up from his drink, Hagrid continued. "Yer mother and father were powerful wizards because they worked hard at it. Yer mum was a Muggle-born witch. Teh best of her year. She started out like yeh are now. Harry, yeh are who yeh are. Yehr an eleven year old boy. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. Yeh'll learn fast enough. Don' yeh worry about that. Have a good time at Hogwarts, I did, still do. Now, would yeh like ta be checked into The Leaky Cauldron or my old tavern, The Hag's Hut?"

Harry scrunched up his face at the options presented. "I'll take the Leaky Cauldron. The Hag's Hut sounds a bit scary."

Hagrid chuckled and smiled, his beard twitching. "I'll talk teh Tom fer yah. Harry, it's been ah pleasure to show ya 'round today. Can't wait ta see ya at Hogwarts. If yer need anything, use yer owl, she'll know where to find me."

Hagrid spoke to Tom and got Harry a room for the rest of the month for a few Galleons. The giant left after wishing Harry luck again and explained he had to be back every day by five at night. Tom would be his caretaker, a request from Dumbledore. Harry wouldn't be able to go out into Muggle London for any reason without Tom's permission or a chaperone. On September 1st, someone would take him to the Hogwarts Express. Hagrid gave him a bone-crushing hug before leaving the pub.

After settling in his new room, Harry took his new wand out of the white box. He remembered what Dumbledore did and waved it, thinking about the chair the older man had conjured. Nothing happened. Frowning, he tried it again, concentrating on the image of the chair. Again, nothing happened. He stared at his wand, wondering if it didn't work for him now he was away from Mr. Ollivander.

"Try reading a book," a voice called from the wall behind him.

Harry jumped and spun around, eyes wide. Nothing was there. Looking back at his wand, he wondered if the wand made the voice. He'd heard of crazier things in fantasy novels. "Up here," the voice called again.

Harry looked up to see a woman in dark robes staring out at him from a picture frame. "Hello, dear. My name is Nova Lewis." She flashed him a kind smile.

Harry blinked twice. "Uh, hello, my name is Harry Potter," he responded, confused as to why a picture was talking to him. He'd seen something like this in the show Dudley liked to watch. The eyes in the paintings would move, but no one had talked in them.

"Yes, dear. I'm to watch out for you while you stay here. Tom's request. I promise to not disturb your privacy. I'm just to ensure you don't get into too much trouble. My son, bless his soul, was a clever lad, but terribly full of energy. Now, why don't you crack open one of your books before you start waving your wand around," the woman in the picture suggested with a smile.

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Harry muttered, putting his wand back in the white box. The day had been one surprise after another.

**XXXXX**

"Tuck in your shirt, scruffy!" the mirror over the small sink commanded as Harry washed his face. He ignored the mirror's comment and studied his face in the mirror.

His eyes fell on the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. His untidy jet-black hair seemed to part to show off the thin, jagged cut on his skin. His bright green eyes locked on the ones staring back in the mirror as he smiled. He thought he looked good except the oval framed glasses he was forced to wear. Without them, he couldn't see five feet in front of him. He tugged his shirt over his head and felt the soft fabric stretch over his muscular frame.

Harry quickly developed a routine to avoid the pub while the place was busy. Somehow, people realized he was staying at The Leaky Cauldron and would show up at random times to meet him in the dining room. He was thankful to Tom for allowing him to take his meals in his room. The only time he would venture out of his room was to get supplies or buy treats for himself. He wasn't lonely or upset when he hid away in his room. Mrs. Lewis talked to him and he had his coursebooks to read._ The Standard Book of Spells_ gripped his attention for a full week before he moved onto anything else. The utter joy of performing the Mending Charm on his old trainers cemented his attention. The history of witches and wizards was all well and good, but the rush of watching his magic work sent him over the moon.

"Mr. Potter, the Ministry forbids you to use magic outside Hogwarts until you are of age," Mrs. Lewis called from her portrait. She smiled at him but had a stern look on her face.

"Why? I want to learn how to cast spells!" Harry questioned as he turned, looking up at his new friend.

"They are the rules. The Statute of Secrecy is a very serious thing. If Muggles found out about magic, could you imagine how they would react? Didn't you already ask me why wizards couldn't just heal all the people in the hospital?" Mrs. Lewis said, her soft voice carrying through the room.

Harry froze and mulled over what the witch told him. "I see, people and government would try to control witches and wizards. To try and control magic. Romans tried to control any new technology they came across," he replied with a frown. "When am I old enough to do magic whenever I want?"

"When you are seventeen, dear," Mrs. Lewis answered with a bright smile. "Don't give me that look. It is the law. I will be happy to give you pointers on how to move your wand and pronounce the Latin words for the spells. However, you must give me your word you will not cast any more magic."

Harry sat up in his bed with a grin. "I promise, Mrs. Lewis! Any help you could give would be brilliant!"

A ringing laugh echoed around the room as Mrs. Lewis gave him a wide smile. "Read the incantation aloud to me and we will start from there."

Harry thanked his caretaker any time she helped him with the pronunciation or the correct way to wave his wand. He wondered if he'd said more "Thank You's" in the course of the week's course than he had in his entire life.

_The Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ was interesting but a difficult read for Harry. He had to go back over entire chapters multiple times to understand what the author was trying to convey. Where the Charms spells were easy for him to understand, Transfiguration seemed like it took a scientific approach to magic. After Nova admonished him about using magic, he stuck to reading the theory and skimmed over the practical application examples.

"This doesn't make any sense," he groused as he flipped through the chapter on turning a matchstick into a needle. "Why would there be math and weights involved in magic?"

"Transfiguration, dear?" the portrait asked. "Pick up your pillow and hold your coursebook in your other hand. Good, what is different?"

"Well, the pillow is lighter and softer for one. The coursebook is heavier and rougher. What… oohh," he gasped as he sat the pillow back down. "To change the pillow into a book, I would need to factor in the book's weight and the texture."

"Yes and no, dear. Keep reading," Mrs. Lewis prompted before becoming still in her portrait.

_Magical Draughts and Potions_ was the second book to captivate Harry's attention. He'd hated cooking for the Dursleys but enjoyed cooking at Providence. Sometimes, the instructors made the cadets cook in the kitchens for part of their mealtimes. The instructions read just like a cookbook. When he asked Tom to let him brew a potion, the older man laughed at Harry. He smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder before rejecting his request. He explained too many things could go wrong when brewing a potion and it wasn't safe to do it outside of Hogwarts. Harry felt dejected but didn't try to brew any potions. It didn't stop him from reading as much as he could. When he got confused between Valerian Sprigs and a Bezoar he put the book down to look through the other books.

"Mrs. Lewis, what did you like most about Hogwarts?" Harry asked one night as he lay reading in bed.

"Humm," the witch hummed as she seemed to wake up. "I would have to say Charms was my favorite subject and the Great Hall my favorite place. Hogwarts' house-elves always made the best pudding."

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ was the last book he dug into before it was time to go to Hogwarts. The coursebook was an easy read. He'd become anxious and jittery when August 28th arrived. With only a few days to go, he tried to distract himself with defensive spell practice. The Knockback Jinx looked especially interesting. However, practicing the spell without being able to cast it made him frustrated. Instead of practicing wand movements, he spent the remaining days relaxed on the bed and reading through all the spells he would be able to cast one day. The more he read, the more excited he was to go to Hogwarts.


	3. Chapter 3: The Sorting Hat

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling._

**Chapter 3: The Sorting Hat**

"You look fit to burst, Mr. Potter," a lilting voice called from the bottom of the stairs.

Harry struggled with his trunk and Hedwig's cage when he heard his friend's voice. He'd found the name Hedwig in A History of Magic and it was one of the few names his owl hadn't nipped his finger in protest too. He'd received a nasty nip when, in frustration, he asked if she wanted to be called Fluffy Git. Maria Carter was the witch who offered to take Harry to King's Cross. She'd graduated the previous year and was an apprentice to Madam Malkin. She'd been staying in the Leaky Cauldron until she could find a flat for herself. Maria was a kind, if excitable, young witch that took a shine to Harry. She pulled him out of his room whenever she could. Harry wondered if that is what an older sister would act like.

"Let me help you with that," Maria said with a laugh and grabbed the other end of the trunk. "The taxi is waiting outside. Kings Cross and the Hogwarts Express, excited?"

"Very," Harry muttered as he negotiated the steep stairs. "I can't wait to be able to use my wand."

"You haven't already? As long as there are adult wizards around, you can do underage magic without getting in trouble." She had a bright glint in her olive eyes as she smirked up at him.

"What?!" Harry cried and caught himself from tumbling down the stairs. "Mrs. Lewis, the portrait in my room said I couldn't do magic outside Hogwarts."

"She's right but also wrong. I won't tell you more, you'll have to figure it out yourself." Maria laughed when he pulled a face. "Don't you give me those eyes. They might be green, and they might be pretty, but it'll take more than a cute face to make me give up my information."

Harry choked and spluttered. He felt his face burning. "I'm not cute," he muttered. He knew his new friend liked to tease him, but it never made it any easier.

Maria laughed harder, her eyes watering, and pulled the trunk toward the door. Harry followed along behind, holding up the other end. The cab ride to King's Cross was short. The balding cab driver looked at them funny in the rear-view mirror but didn't comment. After Harry paid him, he sped off, cutting off another driver with a honk.

"Come along now, grab a trolley for your trunk," Maria instructed. She helped him load his trunk on the rickety cart and strap it down.

King's Cross was busy with a great number of people rushing about. Families called to one another, men and women parted with tearful goodbyes, and children ran around laughing. Maria had a small smile on her face as she took in the sights. "Platform nine and three-quarters is ahead on the left."

"Where? I only see platform nine and platform ten," Harry questioned, looking at the overhead signs. It was hard for him to see through the mass of people.

"In the middle," Maria answered with a small laugh. The smile playing on her lips grew a little wider. "Now, we're a little early, but you can still get through. Take your trolley and aim for the barrier just there," she ordered, pointing at a solid brick wall.

"You want me to run into a wall?" Harry asked. He studied the brick wall, trying to figure out if it was like the one at Diagon Alley. Nothing looked out of place, but he noticed everyone's eyes slide off the area they stood in. Focusing on a woman and her child passing, he noticed the mother steered her child away from the space between platforms nine and ten. "Is there some kind of ward here?" he asked.

"Ward? No, not that I know of. A Notice-Me-Not Charm has been placed here so Muggles don't freak out when children disappear into a brick wall," she said with a laugh. Her eyes sparkled as she winked at Harry.

"Oh," Harry grunted. "So I run at the wall then?"

"Yes, in a moment. First, good luck at Hogwarts. I loved my time while I was there. Don't get hung up on who is in what House; none of it matters in the long run. Focus on having fun and learning. As your friend, I'm warning you, don't break any girl's hearts." Maria chuckled at his confused expression. "Also, just be you. I know you're famous and all but don't let it go to your head."

Harry snorted and shook his head. "Trust me, I'd rather I wasn't famous."

Maria laughed and kissed him on the top of the head. "Off you trot. Have fun and don't cause too much trouble. Don't tell Tom I told you this, but he expected to have to drag you back every night or put out a bunch of fires in your room."

Harry looked at her, shocked. "Why?"

"Mrs. Lewis, as you call her, was sure all your wand practice would cause some sort of accident. Tom was over the moon when she told him you'd moved on to your Potions course work." Maria laughed and gave Harry a small push in the back. "Off you go. Have fun."

Harry thanked her again for taking him to King's Cross and watching out for him at the Leaky Cauldron. She gave him a broad grin. Maria stood back and waited with her arms crossed for him to get ready. "Good luck!" she called before disappearing into the crowd.

He took a deep breath and pushed his trolley toward the brick wall in front of him. He was about to pull up to stop the trolley when he felt a small tug in his stomach. He closed his eyes and kept pushing. The feeling stopped, causing him to open his eyes before slowing to a stop. A scarlet steam engine was waiting on the platform, billowing smoke from the single stack at the front. There were few people on the platform. Witches and wizards were hugging their children and ushering them onto the train. Harry pushed his trolley toward a cluster of similar carts and unhooked Hedwig's cage from the trunk.

It took him several minutes to move the trunk from the platform and onto the train. While the trunk wasn't heavy for him, it was bulky and kept getting caught on things. He found an open compartment toward the middle of the train. He put Hedwig's cage down on the seat next to him and lifted the trunk into the overhead rack. Maria had warned the trip was long and to bring a book to keep himself occupied. Hedwig pecked at the cage.

"What's up, Hedwig?" he asked. He got close to the cage to look the owl in the eyes. She pecked at the latch to the cage. "I'm not sure letting you out on the train is a good idea." Hedwig didn't agree and hooted at him before pecking harder at the door to the cage. "All right, if you feel it's necessary," Harry muttered and got up. He closed the compartment door, drew the cloth to cover the window and let Hedwig out of her cage.

Her wide wings buffeted him as she took a short flight around the small compartment. She hooted at the window and looked back at him, her head turning completely around. "Will you get lost?" Harry questioned, worried his owl and new friend wouldn't make it to Hogwarts. He wasn't even sure where Hogwarts was.

Her trill echoed around the compartment. Harry winced at the loud sound and sighed. "All right, I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts. If you get lost, head back to Tom. I'm sure he'll be able to help you." He got a peck on the finger for his lack of faith in her. Shaking his hand, he drew the window up and watched as she soared out. Harry sighed and closed the window again, latching it shut. He pulled his trunk off the rack and shoved her cage in. Looking through the books, he picked out C_urses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tounge-Tying and Much, Much More)_ by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

Time passed as he practiced the wand movements for the Tongue-Tying Curse from the book. He ignored the increasing volume of noise in the corridor and platform outside. The sheer cacophony on the platform got where he had trouble concentrating so he put his book away. He opened his trunk to put his book away when the compartment door slid open with a bang.

"Mudbloods everywhere, Father always talks about how much better we'd be without them. Oh, look, here's one now," a voice called from the door.

Harry turned around to see a blond, pale boy flanked by two thickset boys. The three boys wore dark robes and glared at him. "Uh, what?" Harry asked, closing his trunk and locking it.

"Mudbloods, you daft fool. It's obvious you don't know who your betters are. Draco Malfoy, though you don't have enough sense to understand how important that name is. This is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle," the blond boy said with a sneer. He gestured to the two boys on either side of him. Harry wondered if they were gorillas in robes. They didn't look too bright.

"What, exactly, is a Mudblood? I would assume it has something to do with the Pure-blood and Half-blood laws I read about?" Harry questioned as he turned to the three boys.

Draco was a slender boy with white-blonde hair slicked back, cold gray eyes, and a pale complexion. Harry wondered if the boy ever went outside. He thought the sneering boy's sharp, pointed features seemed to fit his personality.

"Mudbloods are Muggle-borns or Half-bloods that have no wizarding relatives. Dirty blood," Draco sneered and laughed. "Don't worry, we don't kill Mudbloods anymore. Shame, really," he finished and moved farther into the compartment. Crabbe closed the compartment door and put his and Malfoy's trunks on the overhead rack. Goyle stood in the door, watching Crabbe before lumbering over to Harry's side of the compartment and doing the same.

Vincent reminded Harry of Dudley as a child. He was obese with a thick neck and gorilla-like arms. His flat nose and pudding bowl-style haircut looked comical against his angry face. Harry glanced at Gregory and thought the two large, fat boys looked similar. Goyle had long gorilla-like arms, small dull eyes, and short bristly hair. His broad shoulders had trouble squeezing past Malfoy.

"Get out, Mudblood. We don't want your kind dirtying this compartment up," Malfoy ordered, pointing at the door.

Harry frowned, weighing his options. He could walk away, but his time at Providence taught him to respond to bullies with force. It was one of the few languages they understood. Harry took a deep breath and shook his head in exasperation. It proved to be the wrong move.

"No? You're telling me, no?" Draco questioned, his eyes narrowing. "Crabbe, Goyle, show this Mudblood what it means to defy me."

The lumbering overweight boys blinked before turning toward Harry. Surprised at Draco's order, he almost got hit by Goyle's fist. The desperate moves he'd learned while at Providence kicked in with full force. He ducked the meaty fist and came up with an open hand to the other boy's chin. Goyle howled in pain as Harry's palm struck him in the jaw. Crabbe froze, mid-swing and watched as Goyle fell on top of Malfoy.

"_Flipendo_!" Harry cried, flicking his wand in a practiced pattern toward Crabbe. A jet of blue shot out from the tip of his wand and slammed into the seat next to the beefy boy.

Crabbe made a guttural sound, eyes bulging, and jumped over Goyle. He crashed to the floor near the window. Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy who was struggling to get out from under Goyle. "Stay down," he growled and watched the tip of his wand turn red. Malfoy froze and watched Harry with an expression of horror and fear. Harry snatched his trunk off the rack and dropped it by the compartment door. Keeping his wand on the three boys, he opened the compartment, grabbed his trunk, and stepped out of the room.

He shut the door to the compartment just as he heard the enraged voice of Draco. "WAIT UNTIL MY FATHER HEARS OF THIS!"

"Making friends already I see," a lofty voice called to him from up the corridor.

"Looks like our young friend here has run a fowl of icklemalfoy and his goons," another voice said.

"We saw them on the platform with his father and mother. He was almost in tears about leaving them."

"A real mum's boy, but the way he goes on about his father..." the second voice trailed off. Harry fought not to laugh at the implied comment.

Harry turned to see red-haired twins, grinning at him. They had more freckles than he could count on their faces. He fought down a shiver as he remembered the horror film one cadet had nicked for them to watch. The twins in the movie were beyond creepy as they stood, hand-in-hand, down a long corridor. The movie had given him nightmares for days. "Uh, hello," he responded, taking a step backward.

"Why George, I do believe he is scared of us." The boy on the right said.

"Why Fred, what would ever give you that impression?" Fred answered. Both smiled wider.

"Come ickle-firstie, let's get you away from Malfoy and his cronies," George said as they both advanced on Harry.

They took him by either arm and drug him up the corridor. Half a minute later, he heard a compartment door behind him open with a crash as an enraged Malfoy calling for the Mudblood that attacked them to come back and receive his punishment. Harry looked over his shoulder. An older student shoved Malfoy, none too gently, back into his compartment with a booming laugh. The two girls behind the boy that pushed Malfoy laughed and slammed the compartment door shut again.

"I can walk, I can walk," Harry complained as he pulled away from Fred and George's grip. While they were strong, he was stronger. The trunk handle he'd been dragging dug into his hand.

"Come on then," George answered and trudged up the corridor. "Here we are. Home away from home, for a few hours," Fred joked as they opened a compartment door.

Another red-haired boy sat alone in the compartment with a brown rat in his lap. "Hello, Ron. I found you a fellow firstie," George called and ushered Harry into the compartment. Fred slid the door shut and pulled the curtain down.

"Again, we are Fred and George. This is Ronald," Fred announced, waving a hand between the three of them. "If you'd be so kind as to put your wand away. We'd love to meet someone who has the spunk to attack those three gits." Ronald goggled at his older brother's statement, looking back and forth between Harry, Fred, and George.

Harry laughed and shook his head. He pocketed his wand and sat his trunk on the seat behind him. "Harry Potter, at your service," he said with a small smile, sticking his hand out to shake.

The predictably shocked silence made Harry laugh harder. The twins were the first to recover. "OH, I'M SUCH A FAN," George screamed in an obvious fake high-pitched voice. "OH, MY HEART BE STILL," Fred chorused in a higher pitch as they both took Harry's hand, shaking it hard.

Harry roared with laughter as he shook the enthusiastic twin's hands. "Thanks for the save. Sometimes I had to take my lumps when I was a cadet if it was three on one."

The twins quieted down and frowned. "Cadet?" George asked while Fred said, "What?" Ronald stared, open-mouthed in the corner.

"I went to a boarding school for military bound boys. It would get rough sometimes," Harry answered with a chuckle. He didn't want to explain if he didn't have to.

"You were in a Muggle boarding school?" Fred asked and looked at George. They both looked back at him and chorused, "wicked!" They turned to their brother. Fred grinned and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Well now, we've saved the famous Boy-Who-Lived, we need to go. Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula in a compartment a little farther up." George winked at Harry and laughed. "Was nice meeting you, Harry. Watch after ickleronniekins for us."

They both left the compartment and Harry sat down. "Are you really Harry Potter?" Ronald questioned, looking between the compartment door and Harry.

"Yes," Harry laughed and put his trunk in the rack above his seat.

"Do you really have that scar?" Ronald questioned, leaning forward in his seat.

"Yes," Harry muttered and pulled back his hair, showing his forehead.

"Wicked!" Ron gasped and grinned wider. "I wasn't sure. Fred and George prank me all the time. They get good grades but I don't know when they are telling the truth. I'm Ron Weasley. I hate the name Ronald," the freckled boy confided with a small laugh.

Harry laughed and sat back down in the seat. A moment later the door slid open revealing a sour-faced, pale girl with dark hair. She sniffed as she looked around the compartment and closed the door again. "That was friendly," Harry muttered. He took his wand out of his pocket and put it on his lap.

"Did you attack someone?" Ron asked, his eyes focused on the want in Harry's lap.

"Not by choice. Draco and his two friends were calling me a Mudblood. When I was going to leave, he commanded Crabbe and Goyle, I think his name was, to throw me out of the compartment. When Goyle swung, I hit him in the chin and sent a Knockback Jinx at Crabbe." Harry laughed, remembering the overweight boy jumping for cover. "I missed but Crabbe wasn't too keen on sticking around. He jumped clear over Goyle and Malfoy who were sprawled on the ground. I got my stuff and got out of there."

"He called you a Mud- a Mudblood?" Ron goggled. "That's horrible of him to call anyone that!"

"Some older boy shoved him back into the compartment when he came out screaming it. Judging from everyone's laughs, I got the feeling things like this happen a lot." Harry sighed and frowned. Bullying and fights were prevalent and encouraged at Providence to toughen the cadets up.

"You know magic?" Ron questioned as he sat forward in his seat. "Wicked. Can you show me some? Fred gave me a spell but I don't think it works."

Harry watched as Ron took out his wand and waved it around before pointing at the brown rat in his lap. He cleared his throat and enunciated with a strong voice.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Harry watched for a moment before bursting out in laughter. Ron scowled at him and crossed his arms. "If you're so good, you do it!"

Harry put his hand up in a gesture of peace. "Ron, did you open any of your coursebooks?" he asked as he sat forward in his seat again.

"Well, no, not really. I mean I'll learn magic when I get to Hogwarts, right?" the freckled boy answered. Ron's face contorted as he looked between Harry and his wand.

"Ron, a word of warning for your future endeavors. I've met boys like Fred and George. Got into a fair amount of trouble with them too. Anyway, why would you take them at their word if you know they are pranksters? Yes, I know a couple of spells from the Standard Book of Spells. I practiced the wand movement and enunciation while I was at the Leaky Cauldron," Harry answered with a smile. The memory of setting bucket traps for Instructor Elliot was priceless and worth the punishments.

"Really?" Ron asked as he sat up again. "Could you show me one?"

"Sure, just a second," Harry said and tried to remember which spell was what. He might have practiced the incantations and wand movements but he hadn't mastered remembering all of them. "I suppose the Mending Charm is the easiest to perform." He fished out a pencil from his trunk and put it on the floor. Using his heel, he crushed the pencil and picked up the two ends. "Okay, you have two broken pieces. The book..." he started. The compartment door opened, interrupting the rest of his thought process.

"Hello, do you mind if we sit with you?" a bushy brown-haired girl asked as she peered into the compartment. "Oh! Are you doing magic? Let's see it then." Her demanding tone made Harry sit back.

"I don't suppose it would be trouble to have you join us, but please be a little nicer." He ignored the indignant look on her face and pointed his wand at the broken pencil. He whipped the tip of his wand in a counter-clockwise rotation and focused on the pencil. "_Reparo._" His wand tip lit up for a brief moment before the pencil knitted itself back together with magic. He noticed that there were slivers of wood that floated up from the floor and attached themselves to the sides. A whole pencil sat on the bench. "Not too difficult, Ron."

"Wicked!" the red-headed boy shouted and snatched up the repaired pencil. He turned it over and over in his hand.

"A simple spell, I've known how to do that for ages," the bushy-haired girl said with a sniff. She took a seat next to Ron and a round-faced boy trundled in after her. He sat on the bench next to Harry and seemed to deflate.

"Gran is always going on about how little magic I have. She says I'm close to being a Squib," the boy said as he put his head in his hands.

"Uh, I'm going to guess that's another bad word?" Harry asked, looking sideways at Ron.

"Yeah," Ron answered with a judicious nod. "Means you have no magic but are born in a magic family. Horrible fate, really."

Harry hummed and shook his head. He had a lot to learn that didn't come from any of the books he read. "Anyway, my name is Harry Potter and this is Ron Weasley," he said and pointed to himself and Ron with his wand.

"Are you really?" the bushy-haired girl said in a high-pitched voice. Harry shuddered, thinking it sounded a little like the twin's voices from earlier. "I know all about you, of course. I got a few books for background reading, and you're..." the girl continued until Harry cut her off.

"Yeah, I read one of them. They got it all wrong," he answered with a chuckle. He fought not to laugh when the girl's voice faltered and stared at him like he'd took her favorite dessert.

"What?" she gasped and narrowed her eyes. "Those books couldn't be wrong," she challenged. Her large front teeth seemed to grow larger as she scrunched up her face.

"Hate to break it to you, but yeah they are. I don't even know what a vampire looks like outside of movies. I've never been to Peru and certainly haven't saved any princesses. There was a cadet we called princess, but well, he wasn't exactly upset by it."

The bossy girl goggled at him. When she did not say anything else, Harry turned to the round-faced boy beside him. "What's your name?"

"Neville Longbottom," the boy said with a small smile. He stuck out his hand for Harry to shake.

"Ron Weasley," the red-haired boy called as Neville and Harry shook hands.

"Hermione Granger," the girl said, having gotten over her shock. "You didn't do all those things?"

Harry smiled and nodded at Hermione. "Nope, I lived in Surrey with my aunt and uncle until I got sent to a boarding school in Cranleigh for three years. Couldn't have escaped to do anything. Trust me, a few of us tried." He laughed at some of the more insane stunts he and two other cadets pulled.

"You were showing me magic," Ron butted in whipping his wand through the air.

"Sure," Harry answered and stepped on the pencil again. He put the broken ends on the seat between Ron and Hermione. "Now, wand movement and the correct pronunciation of the spell are important. At least that's what the book says. Point your wand at the pencil. Focus on repairing the pencil, putting the two ends back together. Move the tip of your wand in a counter-clockwise motion. Go slow at first. Doing it once will work, you don't need to keep twirling your wand. Close enough. Try again. There better. Do that same movement and say reh-PAH-roh." Harry tried to enunciate the spell for Ron like Mrs. Lewis did for him. The witch agreed with the book when it mentioned how important it was to get pronunciation perfect for the magic to work.

It took Ron twelve tries before the pencil wobbled and knitted itself back together. He looked up and beamed at them all. "I did it!"

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. Harry laughed and congratulated Ron on his success. He'd noted Neville watching from the corner of his eye. He turned to the round-faced boy and smiled. "Want to give it a go?"

Neville froze and shook his head. "No, I won't get it right."

Harry snatched up the pencil and broke it between his hands. "Nonsense, we're all comrades in magic." He grinned as Neville seemed to shrink into his seat. "Come on, pull out your wand." After Neville had fished out his wand, Harry sat the pencil halves on the seat beside them. "Ready? Again, counter-clockwise rotation and say reh-PAH-roh. Focus on putting the pencil back together."

It took Neville a good ten minutes before he managed to repair the pencil. For Harry, the wait was worth it. Neville's face lit up in the brightest grin as he clutched his wand to his chest. "I can do magic," he kept muttering. Ron laughed at Neville but Harry kicked him in the shin.

"Don't laugh, I had the same reaction when I cast my first spell," Harry scolded. In truth, he hadn't but Neville reminded him of a cadet that hadn't made it. His parents had sent him off to become a man and it broke the poor boy. Some of the older boys, Harry included, had learned to see the signs and provided encouragement to the younger, more sensitive, cadets.

Hermione had spoken little much except to point out Neville was making the wrong wand movements. Harry turned to the annoying girl and tried to smile. "Your turn?"

She looked shocked as he broke the pencil again and put it between her and Ron. She blinked at him and pulled out her wand. With a flick, she pointed her wand at the pencil and sat up straight. "_Reparo._" The pencil knitted itself back together with magic. She looked up and beamed at them.

"Brilliant," Harry said with a smile. "So now we're comrades in magic. Can someone tell me where we can find something to eat?"

He hadn't finished his sentence when the door to the compartment slid open, revealing a smiling, dimpled woman pushing a clattering cart. "Something off the cart, dears?"

**XXXXX**

Harry enjoyed himself as they worked through the assortment of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and many other strange candies and sweets. Hermione scolded them all for ruining their teeth, but still had her fair share of the candy. Neville told them of his life with his grandmother. How his uncle had dropped him out a window and he bounced down the street. Privately, Harry was a little horrified by the story but thought Neville's uncle didn't seem too bad apart from that.

Ron told them all about his family. How he hated having five brothers and an annoying younger sister. He told them about Bill's Head Boy badge, Charlie's Quidditch skills and getting a Captain's badge, and Fred and George's good grades. Percy, it seemed, was a busybody that stuck is nose in anything fun. Ginny was the youngest sister and caused more mischief than the twins.

Every time they'd ask Harry a question, he would answer it and divert it back to his new friends. Harry felt Ron was likable after you got to know him, Hermione was bossy but seemed to need a friend, and Neville he worried about. Any time someone asked her a question, she puffed up with a smile before answering in a long tirade of information. Harry wondered how she could remember everything.

At one point, the compartment slid open and an older girl with raven hair passed Neville a rather large toad. He'd lost it when they first got on the train and the Prefect had tracked it down for him. He thanked her over and over before she excused herself, sliding the door closed.

The train ride was as long as Maria warned, but it went by fast as Harry engrossed himself in learning about the wizarding world. Hermione was a great source of information. Ron told them all about the Pure-blood, Half-blood, and Muggle-born sigmas within the community. Hermione looked horrified. Harry held off judgment until he knew more. Neville's reaction, or lack thereof, told Harry the wizarding world seemed content with the way things were.

Everyone changed into their robes, the boys standing outside while Hermione changed, an hour before the train arrived. Harry smiled when he realized how comfortable the robes were. He'd been dreading putting them on. The wizard hat stayed locked in his trunk. Harry helped collect the various sweets, numerous chocolate frog cards, and helped clean up the mess in the compartment. Then the group sat around talking what they thought Hogwarts would be like. They made wilder and wilder speculations on how their life would be changing.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train as it will be taken to the school separately," a disembodied voice called through the train.

Harry clenched his fists to fight the pounding in his chest. Ron and Hermione had a similar expressions of excitement while Neville looked pale. The train slowed to a stop. Hermione took the lead as they all filed out of the compartment and up the corridor with the rest of the students. Harry could hear Malfoy's bossy and commanding voice calling out from ahead of them. The cool air slapped Harry in the face as he exited the train. It was almost full dark as he looked around the train platform.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere!" a booming voice called. Harry fought a grin as he made his way to the giant. "All right there, Harry?" Hagrid called with a grin. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

They followed Hagrid's massive form down a steep, narrow path. Neville slipped and dropped his toad, Trevor. "Don't worry, he'll show back up," Hagrid offered with a smile when Neville tried to go off after his toad. Sullen, the boy followed the group, his eyes searching in the dark for his lost friend.

A large black lake appeared when the group passed a dense set of trees. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

Harry gasped when he saw the giant castle. Hermione pulled Neville and Harry by the arm toward the little boats tied up by the lake. "No more'n four to a boat," Hagrid called before stepping into a boat.

Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione got a boat and waited. It didn't take long. Hagrid looked around and shouted, "Everyone in? Good. Right then. FORWARD!" The boats, as if listening to his command, moved on their own away from the shores. They glided across the lake without making a ripple. Everyone was silent as they stared at the castle overhead. Hagrid called for everyone to keep their heads down.

When they landed in front of a small harbor under the castle, everyone got out of their boat and Hagrid brought Trevor to Neville. "Tis yers?" the giant asked. Neville thanked Hagrid over and over as he clutched the toad to his chest. With a laugh, the giant strode over to the massive oak doors and knocked three times. Pebbles and small rocks rained down from the dark somewhere over their head.

The doors swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes. She had a pinched, stern face. She reminded Harry of Instructor Pearson with her no-nonsense attitude. He hoped this witch didn't enjoy punishing people as much as his last instructor had.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced with a broad smile.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she said in a clipped voice. With a suppressed shiver, Harry thought her tone sounded similar to Instructor Pearson's. The door swung wider to reveal the entrance hall. It was massive, bigger even than his whole dorm. A magnificent marble staircase led up to the upper floors and four huge glass cylinders stood against the wall on one side. The ceiling was too high for him to make out and everything was cast in low light from the flickering torches on the walls.

They followed the professor across the flagged stone floor and into a small chamber off the hall. The sound of hundreds of voices came from a closed huge, double-door at the center of the hall. Everyone crowded in as they waited for their next instructions.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the stern professor announced. When she had everyone's attention she continued, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting Ceremony is very important because, while you are at Hogwarts, your House will be something like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend your free time in your House common room."

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are here at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you wait." The students shuffled around as she looked at each of them. "I will return when we are ready for you," the professor finished and closed the door behind her.

"I just know I'll be in Slytherin," a nasally voice drawled.

Harry rolled his eyes when he recognized Malfoy's voice somewhere on the other side of the group. "How exactly are we sorted," he asked, looking at Ron rubbing the dirt off his nose.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking," Ron answered as he licked his finger to continue scrubbing at his nose.

Harry snorted and nodded to Ron, agreeing with his assessment. He shrugged, unable to come up with an answer. Hermione seemed to be muttering to herself and Neville looked paler. Everyone had a fright when white, translucent people walked out of a wall. One girl screeched and tripped over her companion. Draco and Harry's eyes met from across the room.

"YOU!" the blonde boy screamed and fished around in his robes.

Harry, knowing things were about to go downhill, pulled out his own wand. "Me?" he questioned, trying to fight a smile tugging at his lips.

"I WILL KILL YOU!" Malfoy screamed again. He managed to pull his wand out of his robes and was about to point it at Harry when the door crashed open.

"What is the meaning of this," a stern voice called from the open door. Professor McGonagall had come back. Her dark eyes swept between Harry and Malfoy.

"This boy was going to attack me, professor," Malfoy drawled and drew himself up.

"Quite the opposite, ma'am. I believe screaming "I will kill you" makes you the aggressor, Malfoy," Harry replied with casual ease. He didn't put away his wand, not trusting the adult in the room. Many times Instructor Elliot would sit back and watch as cadets "worked out their problems" as he called it. As long as the cadets didn't break any bones, he wouldn't lift a finger.

"Both of you put your wands away, now," the stern woman commanded and glared at both of them. "I'm ashamed for you both. I would dock House points from you, but you haven't been sorted yet. Fighting is prohibited at Hogwarts. If you are caught fighting, you will be punished. Now, form a line and follow me."

Harry put his wand away. He slipped in behind Hermione, who was giving him a disapproving look. He shrugged at her and followed the procession of students back across the hall, and through the open doors of the Great Hall. It was lit with thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables. The students were spread out among the tables. He noticed the same colors and crests on the students robes for each table. Hermione was muttering about the ceiling being bewitched to look like the sky outside. He looked up and gasped as he saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. It looked like the Great Hall didn't have a roof.

At the center of the hall, closest to the long table at the far end, sat a stool with a battered old hat sitting on it. The wizards' hat looked patched, frayed, and dirty. He wondered if someone had thought to clean it in the last century or six.

The students came to a stop in front of the stern witch as a wide mouth opened in the middle of the hat. It began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I'll tell you where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry, set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin, You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to all four tables before becoming still again.

"Huh, that seems easy," Harry muttered as he listened to Ron cursing his brother for saying they had to wrestle a troll. He went over what the hat had said. Hufflepuff stood out to him the most. He was unafraid of trouble and patient but the rest he wasn't sure on. Ravenclaw he wasn't sure about because while he loved reading, he was never the smartest in class. Slytherin reminded him of being at Providence so it didn't sound too bad. Gryffindors sounded all right if it came to it. Maria had mentioned that none of the Houses mattered outside of Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall strode to the front of the group and unfurled a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on. Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of the line, almost overturned on the stool, and put the hat on. It fell to below her eyes. After a moment's pause, the mouth on the hat opened wide, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The table on the right cheered and clapped as the girl sat down at their table.

"Bones, Susan!" Professor McGonagall called again. A young girl with long, strawberry-blonde hair bounced as she skipped toward the stool.

The Sorting Hat covered her entire head for a moment before it yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Again, the Hufflepuff table cheered, but none was louder than Hannah. Her ear-splitting scream made two students near her cover their ears and shoot her a dirty look.

Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst went to Ravenclaw, followed by Lavender Brown, the first Gryffindor. Slytherin's first new student came a moment later when Millicent Bulstrode put on the hat. The Slytherin table didn't cheer but did clap.

Justin Finch-Fletchley went to Hufflepuff to the accompaniment of cheers. Seamus Finnigan became another Gryffindor. He sat on the stool for a whole minute until the hat spoke. Harry noticed some students got sorted as soon as the hat touched their head, while others took longer.

"Granger, Hermione!" Professor McGonagall called and Harry watched as the girl from his compartment walked up to the hat. The hat screamed out Gryffindor. Ron groaned.

Harry watched Neville when Professor McGonagall called his name. He fell over on his way to the stool, causing many in the Great Hall to laugh at him. The hat took a long time with Neville before finally shouting, "GRYFFINDOR." He ran off still wearing the hat and had to jog back to more laughter.

Malfoy got sorted with his friends into Slytherin. It took the hat seconds to decide where to sort them. For Harry, that meant Slytherin was out if he had a choice. The boys at the Slytherin table looked like the ones he'd lived with for three years at Providence.

He watched as more students sat on the stool; the hat deciding which House to send them to. As he watched the sorting, he finally settled on either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Either would work for him. The Slytherins were out and he didn't know if his marks would be up to scratch for Ravenclaw. He noticed a few students reading at the Ravenclaw tabled during the ceremony. While he didn't have horrible marks, he didn't have the best either. He knew some of it was because of his pension for getting into trouble.

"Potter, Harry," Professor McGonagall called, looking him in the eye.

A hush fell over the hall before whispers and mutters broke out in small pockets all over the hall. "Potter, did she say?" "THE Harry Potter?" "THE-Boy-Who-Lived?" "You did say he was on the train." The voices cut out when Harry put the hat over his head, which drooped below his eyes.

"Humm," a quiet voice hissed in his ear. "Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage. A good mind if you were to try. Talent, oh you have talent. A desire for power. A stronger desire to protect. Where shall I put you?"

Harry lifted the hat a little so he could see out from under the brim. The entire hall was staring at him. "Not Slytherin if you don't mind," he said aloud. A group from the Slytherin table heard him and booed.

"Not Slytherin you say? Are you sure? You have plenty of experience dealing with their social structures. No?" the hat hissed in his ear.

"_Not Ravenclaw," _Harry thought as he scanned the tables. His eyes landed on Neville, his head scrunched down in his robes. He looked like a lost turtle. "_I like Hufflepuff better but Gryffindor is where I want to go," _he thought again. The hat on his head seemed to shift as if nodding.

"Like Hufflepuff better, huh? A strong sense of guilt and a desire to protect. You would be good there. If you wish then, it better be. GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted the last word. Gryffindors exploded in cheers and applause.

"We got Potter! We got Potter!" the Weasley twins cheered over the tumultuous noise.

After taking his seat beside Neville, Harry watched the rest of the sorting. Ron and Dean Thomas were the last two Gryffindors sorted. Blaise Zabini was the last student the Sorting Hat spoke to. He went to Slytherin with a swagger in his step.

Albus Dumbledore stood up, arms spread wide. "Welcome, welcome! We welcome you to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweek! Thank you!" The old headmaster sat down with a grin to a smattering of applause from both students and teachers.

"Mad, I tell you," Ron muttered as he stared at the teacher's table. A moment later, all thought of strange speeches flew out of Harry's mind as the tables filled with dishes piled with food. He grinned and helped himself to the closest fatty meat.


	4. Chapter 4: House Rules

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling._

_I strongly considered putting this Harry into Hufflepuff. He has a lot of the primary characteristics. He knows it as well, something you will see going forward. For those of you who are worried about a HarryXNeville love interest, don't._

**Chapter 4: House Rules**

The feast was a riot of food and laughter, punctuated by jokes from the Weasley twins. Sir Nicholas, or Nearly-Headless Nick, introduced himself to the young Gryffindors by appearing through the middle of the table. His head, attached by a sinew of flesh, flopped to the side and made Hermione gag into her Parsnip Delight. Percy, Ron, and the twin's older brother talked to Hermione and Neville about setting a good example for future Gryffindors by following the school rules.

Harry noticed the students stayed at their House tables during the feast. Students would shout back and forth between the tables, but rarely would anyone sit down at another House's table for longer than a minute. The long table at the back of the hall drew his attention. Hagrid was drinking from a large goblet, liquid flowing into his beard from around the brim. Professor McGonagall was speaking to a tiny wizard with a shock of white hair and green robes. A thin, dark-haired wizard with a hooked nose locked eyes with Harry for a moment before leaning over to speak to another professor. As the dark-haired wizard spoke, the young, pale-skinned wizard jumped and trembled. His purple turban swayed as he shook his head at whatever his colleague said.

Harry's scar burned white-hot for a moment as both men stared back at him. Wincing at the pain, he looked away and grimaced at what he saw on the other side of the hall. Malfoy was pointing at Harry. A group of Slytherin boys clustered together, nodding at whatever the blonde boy was saying. The Hufflepuff table seemed to have a grand time as they passed food up and down the table. Two older boys had lifted a frightened Hannah Abbot on their shoulders and were introducing her to the other House-mates. From the flustered look on Susan's face, she had a similar treatment minutes before. The Ravenclaw table ate with reserve. There was general conversation but nothing to the excitement level of the other Houses.

"Ahem," a voice called from the teacher's table. "Just a few more words now that we are fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term announcements to give you," Dumbledore said as he tapped his wand on the table. "First-years should note that the forest on the ground is forbidden to all pupils. A few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." His eyes twinkled as he looked toward the Gryffindor table. "I have been asked by Mr. Filch, our caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. Finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to anyone who doesn't wish to die a very painful death." He waited a moment for the murmurs around the hall to quieten down. "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried his arms going wide. He stood and beamed at the students. With a flick of his wand, a golden thread appeared in the air from the tip of his wand.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune. Off we go!" the Headmaster said and started to wave his wand. Golden words appeared as the thread flitted and danced before him.

Harry did his best not to groan or put his hands over his ears. The cacophony of screeching, wailing, off-key singing, croaking notes, and nails down a chalkboard reverberated around the hall. He couldn't even concentrate on what was being written in the air in front of the Headmaster. Harry thought Ron, who sat beside him, sounded like a wet squeezebox. Neville sang every third word at the top of his lungs. Hermione looked like someone force-fed her broccoli. Harry wondered if this was how the wizards summoned dark forces from the underworld, if they existed. The song ended with Fred and George singing along to a slow funeral march. He felt his eye twitch when Dumbledore wiped his eye.

"...a magic beyond all we do here. And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" the Headmaster called and sat down.

Percy escorted the first-year Gryffindors out of the Great Hall, up the marble staircase and through the corridors. Harry tried to remember which turns they took but lost his bearings when a ghost floated out of the wall. The poltergeist Peeves, as Percy called him, threw a bunch of sticks at them. Percy threatened the poltergeist by threatening to call the Bloody Baron. Peeves blew a raspberry before zooming off through another wall. Percy took the lead again and walked a little farther up the corridor before stopping at a large portrait of an overweight woman in a pink silk dress.

"Caput Draconis," Percy said aloud in a clear voice. "Remember, the password changes every few weeks. If you forget it, you will be locked out of the tower until another Gryffindor comes to save you," he warned as the portrait swung forward.

The Gryffindor Common Room was a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs, end tables with games on them, and two alcoves with massive stained-glass windows. Two archways revealed stairs, one that went up and the other spiraled down. Percy showed the boys to the stairway that went down. The first-year boys shared a dormitory on the first landing. Harry felt a prickle of fear as he looked around the dormitory. Five, four-poster beds sat against the wall of the circular room. His trunk was at the foot of the bed on his left. Ron's trunk was on the left of the door and Neville's was on the right. Dean took the bed beside Harry and Seamus collapsed on the remaining bed.

Harry watched as the other boys fell asleep one by one. His internal clock still had another hour and a half before lights out. He'd kept the routine of going to bed by 22:00 and waking up at 05:30 while staying at the Leaky Cauldron. With nothing else to do, he got up, unlocked his trunk, and pulled out his _History of Magic_ coursebook. Nothing would tire him out faster than reading about the British Ministry of Magic in the early seventeen-hundreds.

**XXXXX**

Harry was the first one awake in the dormitory. One of his reoccurring nightmares had ensured he got little rest and his body told him it was time to get up to start the day. Swinging his legs out of bed, he glanced around the circular room. All the other boys were sound asleep. Ron was clutching his pillow between his legs, murmuring about flying faster. Poor Neville was half off the bed, his head hanging off one side and his feet off the other. Harry dressed in his old uniform from Providence to work out in. Not knowing Hogwarts well enough, he opted to use the common room. No one appeared to be awake, so he moved three of the stuffed armchairs into an alcove and started his morning routine.

The sound of laughing and hushed giggles floated down the girl's dormitory side. Harry wrapped up the last of his squats and pulled the chairs back. A tall, pretty dark-skinned witch with long black hair descended the stairs talking to another girl with brown hair. Both girls stopped their conversation to stare at Harry.

"You have got to be kidding me," the tall girl muttered and looked at her friend. "If we could get him on the team, Wood would explode. He is up early and even works out. These poor muscle brained boys."

"Morning, Harry," the other girl said with a laugh. She pointed at her friend. "She's Angelina Johnson and I'm Alicia Spinnet, we're Chasers for the Gryffindor team."

"I'm sorry, what is a Chaser?" Harry asked, imagining them to be a type of groupie. Donald, a boy in his dormitory, always talked about his dad having groupies that chased him after his performances.

"A Chaser," Angelina answered with deliberate enunciation. At his confused look, she blinked at him. "You have no idea what Quidditch is, do you?" He remembered Ron and Neville talking about Quidditch some on the train, but he hadn't been paying attention. Hermione had been telling him about her Transfiguration theories. When Harry shook his head the two girls looked at each other and nodded. "Right, then you'd better take a seat."

Angelina and Alicia spent the better part of an hour explaining the wizarding sport of Quidditch. Harry listened to them explain about everyone playing on broomsticks as they flew across the pitch. The Chasers passed the Quaffle, a round red ball, while the Keeper protected three goalposts. Beaters would send angry, fast-moving, black balls at the other team while protecting their own players. Seekers searched around for the golden Snitch, a flying ball that awarded one hundred and fifty points and ending the game. Harry asked a few questions when he got confused, which happened often. Flying around on a broomstick seemed silly to him.

"Well, we're going to get ready to head down to the Great Hall soon. Let us know if you need anything, Harry," Alicia called as they went back up to their rooms to change.

Harry waved and went down to his dormitory. All the boys were still asleep. He changed into his robes and wondered what he should do with his dirty clothes, much less a shower. Glad he had three sets of robes, he put all his coursebooks into a bag he'd found at Diagon Alley, tucked his wand into his robe, and set off to find information.

An hour later, he sat in the Great Hall beside Percy. The Prefect was happy to show him how to get around the castle. Harry had tried not to laugh as the older boy lamented the fact Ron would probably miss his first class because of how late he liked to sleep. After two plates of bacon, eggs, and sausage with a chaser of tea, Harry made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Ron and Neville were still asleep when he arrived. He felt a grin stretch his lips as he looked at the sleeping boys before going to work.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE FOR CLASS!" Harry bellowed into the room. Ron woke up with a strangled yell, tried to jump off his bed, and fell flat on his face. The bed sheet tied around his foot pulled Neville off his bed and onto the floor. Harry roared with laughter as the two boys struggled to get untangled from their bedding. Ron was cursing and spluttering while Neville looked around, a lost look on his face.

"'orning, 'arry," Neville yawned. He got up and rubbed his shoulder from where it hit the floor.

"Why did you do that!? You're just as bad as Fred and George," Ron grumbled as he pulled on his robes.

"Because it was funny," Harry answered with a laugh. "I've got both of your schedules. I figured if you wanted food, now would be the time to get it. We've got about an hour before the first class."

Ron perked up at the mention of food. Neville and Ron took the parchments offered to them. Ron groaned as he read the schedule. "Double Potions on Friday," he moaned and looked at the other boys. "Oh, you don't know. Snape is the professor for Potions. Fred, George, and even Percy say he's horrible."

Harry shrugged and pocketed his own schedule. He put some of his books back into his trunk, now he knew his schedule for the day. What shocked him the most was the sheer amount of free time he'd have. At Providence, every hour of the day had a set structure, even when he had to do punishment assignments. "We've got Potions, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology today. The first class is at zero-nine."

"Zero-nine?" Neville questioned. He scrunched up his face and looked down at his parchment. "You mean nine AM?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered and laughed. "Military time," he answered to the questioning looks from the two boys.

"Right," Ron drawled and rummaged around in his battered trunk.

The Potion's classroom turned out to be trickier to find than Harry imagined. The marble stairs moved on their own. Doors were not doors but tapestries pretending to be doors. Some doors you had to bow to before it would open while others required you to tickle the handle. The sheer number of stairs startled Harry. There were wide, sweeping stairs that moved, rickety wooden ones that squeaked, stairs with missing steps that weren't missing at all, and some stairs that only appeared on certain days of the week. Harry summed up his entire experience of moving around the castle as "confusing".

They made it just in time. Harry and Ron sat together while Neville sat with Hermione. The dark, cold classroom was creepy even without the pickled animals floating in glass jars around the walls. The hook-nosed professor from the Great Hall strode into the room and slammed the door behind him. His cloak billowed out behind him as he made his way to the table at the front. He snatched up a page from off his desk and started the roll call.

When he got to Harry's name he stopped. "Ah, yes. Harry Potter, our new… celebrity," he hissed, his eyes locking with Harry's. Snickers and quiet laughs echoed around the room from the Slytherins. After a moment, Professor Snape looked away and continued the roll. "Another Weasley," he muttered with a sneer.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," the professor began as he swept the room with his eyes. He spoke barely above a whisper but his voice carried through the class. No one spoke while Professor Snape was speaking. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death. That is, if you aren't a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach," Professor Snape growled as he strode from around the desk. He stopped at the first set of tables and glared around the room.

"Potter!" the professor called and all eyes fell on Harry. "What would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?" Hermione's hand shot into the air.

Harry winced and tried to remember. "It mixes into a potion, but I don't remember which one, sir," he answered after a moment. Hermione's hand waved harder as she tried to get Professor Snape's attention.

"Tut, tut. Fame clearly isn't everything," the professor sneered. "Let's try again, Potter. What would I get if I told you to find me a Bezoar?"

"Oh, I know this one. Beazors are found in the stomachs of goats and is used in potions to cure most poisons," Harry answered. If possible, Professor Snape's glare deepened.

"Correct," the professor muttered. "What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"Aren't those acon… acon… Aconite? If I remember professor, they are the same thing," Harry answered as he tried to remember back.

"Is that a question, Potter? Or are you simply guessing?"

"They are the same thing and also go by the name of Aconite," he answered with a firm nod. The more he talked it out, the more confident he felt in his answer.

"Correct," Professor Snape answered. His upper lip ticked for a moment before becoming a blank mask once more. He waved his wand at the chalkboard behind his desk. "As Potter told us, a Bezoar is found in the stomach of goats and is used to cure common poisons. Monkshood and Wolfsbane is the same thing that is commonly known as Aconite. What Potter didn't know was the first question. If you add powdered root of Asphodel into an infusion of Wormwood, you would get the Draught of Living Death. Why aren't you writing this down!"

The sound of quills on parchment echoed around the class. "Potter, for your incorrect answer, Gryffindor loses five points." The Gryffindors groaned but said nothing. Harry shrugged and nodded to the professor. He'd had plenty of experience with surly instructors at Providence.

Potions was as amazing as Harry had hoped it would be. While Professor Snape was more of a hindrance than a help to him, the book at least didn't steer him wrong. Ron was, at best, a danger to himself and others. His idea of not measuring anything and dumping all six snake fangs into the cauldron would have, if Professor Snape had said nothing, caused the cauldron to explode. Hermione saved Neville from destroying their potion when he tried to take the cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills.

Harry looked Professor Snape in the eye at one point and wondered if the students were the reason for his ill-temper. The sheer number of near-accidents that happened within the hour period shocked him. The professor explained, if in a scathing tone, what would have happened in every instance. Ron finished the potion with a tap of his wand and Harry poured the potion into four glass vials. Harry grimaced as he looked at the color of the potion. It didn't match the color described in the book, but it was close. Professor Snape took his vials with a sneer and sent him back to his table to clean up.

"That was the worst lesson yet," Ron muttered as they left the dungeons.

"That was the first lesson," Harry answered with a laugh. "It wasn't so bad. It was clear no one had any potion making experience. Why do you think he wanted us to brew potions on our first day?"

No one had an answer. "That Snape hated you, Harry," the red-head said after a moment with a sneer. "He kept looking for a chance to put you down. He even took House points! Not surprising, seeing as he is the Slytherin Head of House."

"I did get the answer wrong," Harry retorted with a smile. He was glad the professor took arbitrary points off over getting paddled with a wooden bat. Ron and Neville shot him a pitying look while Hermione nodded.

The trip to _Classroom 99 in the South Tower_ took them the whole thirty minutes to get there. They got lost as the stairs changed direction twice. Professor Flitwick was a tiny wizard who stood on a large pile of books at the corner of the class. Rows of desks were facing a single blackboard. He began roll call when the Gryffindors arrived and took their seats. He squeaked and fell off his perch when he read Harry's name.

A beaming Professor Flitwick gave Harry and Hermione ten points to Gryffindor for their Charm work. The first practical exercise was to preform the wand movements for _Lumos_, the Wand-Lighting Charm. Harry and Hermione performed the incantation and wand-movement perfectly the first try. Time flew by for Harry as he engrossed himself in Professor Flitwick's lesson. It had been, hands down, the best class of the day.

Fred and George flanked the group of four as they walked into the Great Hall for lunch. "Lost some House points to He-Who-Shall-Not-Wash?" one of the twins asked. When Harry nodded, the two boys shared a look and nodded. "Right, since you've lost House points it's time for House Rules and Punishments," the other twin intoned. Both shook their heads looking solemn.

"House Rules and what?" Ron asked as he looked between his brothers.

"Rules and Punishments. If you lose any House points, you must ensure the rest of the House is rewarded with laughter. You see, Gryffindor is the best and therefore their members must be entertained. The punishment is..." one twin broke off as he spread his arms out. "PINK HAIR!" the other twin roared as he sent a spell at Harry. It hit Harry full-on in the face, causing him to stumble backward.

The whole hall erupted with laughter as Harry and his friends sat down for lunch. Harry's hair had turned pink, much to his amusement. He plotted his revenge as he grinned at the twins. One of the twins seemed to see something in Harry's eyes as he winked back. Lunch was a boisterous affair as people came over to congratulate Harry on his new hair color.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was the class Harry hated the most. He struggled to understand Professor Quirrell. The wizard couldn't string three words together without stuttering. Harry's chest tightened as he remembered a round-faced, quiet boy who stuttered badly. He glanced at Neville and shook his head, trying to ignore the pain in his forehead. After he'd gotten settled in the classroom, he started to feel twinges in his forehead around his scar. It was a low-level pain, bearable but annoying. The hour long class dragged on as he listened to the thin, pale wizard moan on about a ghost. The consensus in the group, minus Hermione, was that Defense Against the Dark Arts had been a waste of time.

Herbology made Neville squirm with excitement as they waited outside Greenhouse 1. It was the one class he'd been waiting for and couldn't keep still. He rambled on about all the plants he wanted to see and his desire to have a greenhouse. Harry smiled at the round-face boy's enthusiasm. Ron looked annoyed. Professor Sprout a was squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair. She looked dirty from head-to-toe. Her smiling face welcomed all the students as they clustered around the standing trays. Neville won Gryffindor ten House points and a boy in Hufflepuff won his house five for correct answers.

"What do we do now?" Harry asked, feeling a little lost. With his last class ending at 15:00, he didn't know what to do with the free time. If he were still at Providence, he would sit another class before going to Physical Education. After another grueling hour of exercise, the cadets would go to dinner and do homework before bed. His conditioning told him to study or do homework like usual.

"Let's go to the library and finish our homework," Hermione suggested, but Ron shot her down.

"We should go to the common room and rest. My head is pounding from all those classes," he complained. He looked at Harry and Neville. "What do you think?"

Harry froze, torn between what to do. He didn't want to say anything to upset either of his new friends, so he looked at Neville. "What do you think?" he asked the round-faced boy.

Neville scrunched up his nose. "Hermione is right, we should get the homework out of the way."

Ron shrugged and muttered he could nap in the library just as well as in the common room. They followed Hermione as they tried to find where the library was in the warren of a castle. After asking an older student, they found the library and settled in to finish the assigned homework.

"We've got Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology tomorrow. We should do those assignments first," Harry offered as they sat down.

"Oh, good idea!" Hermione praised and pulled out her schedule. "Potions isn't until Wednesday again. We'll have Transfiguration tomorrow! I'm looking forward to learning more about it."

"History of Magic on Wednesday," Ron complained as he looked at Hermione's schedule. "I heard Professor Binns is a bore. Fred and George use it to catch up on their sleep."

"What?!" Hermione gasped, her eyes wide. "That's irresponsible!"

"It's Fred and George," Ron answered with a shrug.

The group took a while to finish their essays. Harry and Hermione finished theirs first and took turns talking Ron and Neville through finishing theirs. All the professors required an essay of no shorter than five inches long. "We're finally done! How much time do we have before dinner?" Neville asked as he put his books away.

"Eighteen hundred? We've got about an hour and a half," Harry answered as he put away his books. Ron and Hermione looked at him funny but didn't comment.

They made their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room to wait for dinner. Ron found a seat by one of the alcoves and beckoned them over. He talked Neville into playing wizard chess with him while Harry and Hermione watched. Harry pretended to watch as he read from his Potions book and thought Hermione was doing the same beside him. Ron didn't care, engrossed in beating Neville.

Harry was reading and thinking back on his day when he froze, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Ron, I need to borrow you for a moment." The red-head boy looked up from the chessboard after beating Neville for the second time. He nodded and got up. Harry led him to their dormitory and opened his trunk. "Time to get the twins back," he answered to Ron's questioning look. Ron beamed at him.

"Which one is their room?" Harry asked as he stuffed the rest of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum into his robes. He thought for a moment and pulled out two boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and the last of the Cauldron Cakes. With a wide grin, he followed Ron to the second year's room. They opened the door and peered inside. No one was there. Harry spotted two battered trunks beside each other by the far wall. His grin now almost touching his ears, he set to work. Ron watched in mute horror as Harry chewed the gum before attaching the pieces from one end of the bed to the other. He repeated the process with ten pieces of gum each, creating a network of slimy gum suspended over the bedding. He took the every flavor beans and dumped them in the toes of the twin's spare trainers and slid the Cauldron Cakes under their pillows.

Harry and Ron left the room and went back to the common room. Hermione questioned what they'd done but Ron refused to answer, chuckling and laughing to himself at random times. Ron napped in one of the chairs while Neville joined Hermione by the fire. Harry finished reading the Potion's chapter on the Cure for Boils potion, before dinner.

Midway through dinner Fred and George walked into the Great Hall. Harry noticed the twins were walking funny as they made their way to the Gryffindor table. They sat a little farther down from Ron and Harry, heads together in deep discussion.

Ron started giggling. Harry punched him in the ribs but the damage was done. Fred and George turned at the same time to look at Harry and Ron, their eyes narrowing. "Why, brother, what could be so funny?" one asked while the other put his hands over his hips. "Your mother would be ashamed of you giggling at the dinner table," the other twin finished. They got up, with some difficulty, and sat between Ron and Harry.

"We come back from class, our heads filled with magical whatnot, when we find our beds vandalized. We clean up the sticky gum and sit in our beds, crushing a perfectly good Cauldron Cake under our pillow. Imagine our horror when we put on our trainers and feel something squash inside our shoe a moment later." Fred, or George, managed to sound more and more affronted as the story continued. His twin picked up the narration, "imagine when we make it down to dinner, after trying to clean our trainers out, we find our ickleronniekins laughing at the sight of us. Got anything to confess?"

Harry was fighting a grin. He'd only expected the Cauldron Cakes to cause a mess. Both twins looked from Ron to Harry who couldn't hold it anymore and burst out laughing. "Payback from earlier. You understand, when you did your prank earlier, that it means war, right?" he said with a wider grin.

"Why George, I do believe we've done something right today."

"Yes, Fred. I do believe we have a new volunteer for our attention."

"Bring it on, princesses. You want a prank war, you got one," Harry answered with a laugh. He'd gotten in a lot of trouble at Providence because of the sheer amount of trouble a bunch of boys could make locked in a room together. He learned to give as well as he got.

Hermione sputtered and groaned as Fred, George, and Harry told stories of the pranks they'd done before. Harry was sure Fred and George hadn't told him their best ones and he hadn't told them some of his. The twins let slip about a mail order form for a joke shop in Hogsmeade.

After dinner, the group of four went back to the common room to relax before bed. Harry picked one of his books he'd purchased at Flourish and Blotts. The _Ingredient Encyclopedia _hadsaved Harry from losing more points in Potions. He'd read about Aconite in the book and wanted to continue reading through the massive tome in case the Potion Master tried to quiz him during the next class.

Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall was an interesting experience for Harry. She cowed the class with the power of her voice and a glance. No one spoke during her class. Her introduction made his fingers twitch in excitement, wanting to turn one thing into another. When she turned the desk into a pig and back again, he sat forward in his seat. Neville looked green when Professor McGonagall threatened them with being thrown out of the class for messing around in the class. After her demonstration, the professor set them on changing a match into a needle. By the end of the lesson, Harry and Hermione made their matches look silver and had a point at one end.

"Very good Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, one point each to Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall praised as the students packed up at the end of the class.

History of Magic drove Harry to distraction. Professor Binns droned on in a monotone voice. The professor had forgotten to take his body with him one day for class. The ghost spoke from memory as he lectured about the important events in the history of the wizarding world. Harry used the time to read the coursebook instead. It was somehow more enjoyable than listening to the ghost.

True to their word, Fred and George performed minor pranks on Harry. They all had a laugh when Harry walked around with squeaking shoes one morning. He got one twin back with a Sticking Charm on a piece of parchment asking for anyone to kick them. It took three kicks and a Tripping Jinx before George figured it out.

Flying lessons on Thursday with the Slytherins was an interesting class for Harry. Neville launched himself in the air in fright and Harry kicked off a moment later. He got a hand on Neville's robes as Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, caught up to Neville on the other side. Madam Hooch awarded Harry ten points for his quick thinking and skill on the broom. Hermione hated every moment of the flying lesson. Ron fell off his broom once but got back on with a grin. Harry had a blast as he flew around the pitch. The Gryffindors all ignored Malfoy and his cronies as they tried to cause trouble.

A week passed as the Gryffindor first-years got accustomed to Hogwarts. Hermione got into an argument with Harry for not listening in History of Magic. He defended himself by saying at least he didn't treat the class as nap time and he did read through the lesson. She appeared mollified but still scolded him whenever she could. Ron got annoyed with Hermione for trying to be a know-it-all. They got into an argument that had both of them going to bed early one night. Neville struggled through all his classes except Herbology.

After class one day, Malfoy pushed his way past Hermione, knocking her books to the floor. "I didn't see you there, Mudblood," he laughed to his friends.

"Don't you call her that!" Ron bellowed and got in Malfoy's face.

"What are you going to do about it, Blood-traitor?" he sneered as Crabbe and Goyle stepped up to flank him.

"Don't take your anger out on Hermione, Draco. Just because you still can't remember to stir the cauldron three times, instead of four. You'd think Professor Snape would take you aside to give you remedial reading, just so you don't embarrass the Slytherin house," Harry interjected as he approached.

"YOU!" Malfoy seethed. The blonde boy had been trying to get back at Harry by any means possible.

"Me," Harry answered and helped Hermione to her feet. "Pure-blood or not, trash is still trash."

Malfoy sneered back. "I've got more magic in my blood than you could ever dream of, Potter. Wizards' Duel, tonight at midnight by the trophy room," the boy challenged.

"No idea where that is and I'll pass on that duel. You couldn't take me three-on-one on the train, you won't take me alone in a duel. Get lost, Malfoy."

Malfoy growled and narrowed his eyes. "Scared, Potter? Scared I'll beat you?"

"No, I'm not scared at all, Malfoy. You'll bluster and boast about calling Daddy to save you when you lose. I'd rather get some sleep than listen to your drivel," Harry shot back. He clutched his wand under his robes when he saw Malfoy tense.

"You will pay, Potter. You'll go the way of your parents before long, mark my words." The blonde boy puffed himself up and strode away. "Protecting those Mudbloods and Blood-traitors will get you killed one day," he shot over his shoulder.

"You won't be the one to do it though, Malfoy. Too much of a coward and bully to do anything other than flap your lips."

Malfoy howled and spun, aiming his wand toward Harry. Red sparks shot from the end of his wand and slammed into the wall where Harry stood a moment before. Hermione put her bag in front of her face as she fell backward. Ron yelped and jumped out of the way, knocking Neville over. Harry whipped out his wand and sent a Knockback Jinx at Malfoy and his group. A similar scene occurred on the other side of the corridor. Crabbe jumped back, knocking a Slytherin girl to the floor. Goyle ducked with his hands over his head. Malfoy ducked and smacked his head on the wall.

"MOVE," Harry hissed as he got Hermione to her feet. Neville and Ron scrambled up and ran around the corner as two spells flew past. Harry wanted to go back and send a response but Hermione yanked on the back of his robes. The Gryffindors retreated to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Why would you do that?" Hermione asked as she rounded on Harry. They were standing in the Entrance Hall.

"Do what? Send a spell back at Malfoy who shot one first?" Harry asked as he made his way into the hall, eyes peeled for the Slytherin boy.

"No, challenge him like that?" she asked as she followed behind him.

"Bullies only answer to violence. Put them down hard, fast, and often. It is the only language they understand," Harry muttered as he took a seat at the table.

"That's wrong!" Hermione gasped and glared at him.

"Only way I've ever seen of getting rid of bullies is to beat them at their own game. Had enough of bullying back when I was in Providence. When we beat the ones causing the trouble senseless, they learned not to mess with us."

"That's horrible," Hermione gasped as she stared at Harry.

He shrugged in response and began to eat, not bothered by her silence. In truth, he wasn't bothered by her anger either. The school counselor had told him similar things but nothing worked. When words didn't work, fists got the job done. Ron was in a foul mood from the experience, angry he didn't get to do anything back to Malfoy. Harry didn't help when he snapped at Ron. Saying he wouldn't have been much help and the only spell Ron could do was to mend broken bits of pencil. He felt bad for saying it as soon as it left his mouth. Neville looked pale and withdrawn during lunch.

Harry had enough of Ron's name-calling and outright verbal bullying one night in the common room. "Stop being such a know-it-all, buckteeth. I'll do my homework when I want to do it," Ron snarled as he knocked over Hermione's inkpot over the table.

"Ron, apologize, now. Uncalled for on too many levels," Harry yelled from the other side of the room. He'd go along with whatever the red-headed boy wanted most of the time but wouldn't stand for bullying, even among friends. His chest tightened as he worried how his friend would respond.

"What? She's got no friends, is an insufferable know-it-all, like Snape says. AND she thinks she knows better than all of us," Ron defended as he crossed his arms. He glared between Harry and Hermione.

"She does know more than us, Ron. She is also trying to help you. You got a Troll on your last Potions assignment because you wrote it as Professor Snape was walking in the door for class," Harry answered in a quiet voice. "Please, apologize."

"No, she doesn't deserve it," Ron answered with a sneer. "She holds her I'm-better-than-you attitude over all of us. She needs to go."

Harry felt cold as he decided to stay true to his beliefs. His chest tight he said, "Ron, go to bed. You're tired or frustrated, either way, go to bed." The look of rage in his friend's eyes hurt.

"Ron, I'm trying to help," Hermione said in a small whisper. Her eyes were glistening.

"WELL SOME OF US DON'T NEED YOUR HELP," Ron screamed at her.

Harry stood and shot a Tongue-Tying Curse at Ron. It hit him in the mouth, causing the read-headed boy to flinch. Regret washed over Harry when he realized he'd overreacted. "Go to bed before you say anything else, please Ron," Harry said in a quiet voice.

Ron sputtered and tried to say something. All that came out was incoherent words and spit. He threw up his hands and stalked to the dormitory. "Harry, I'm going to have to dock ten points from Gryffindor," a voice called from the portrait hole.

Harry looked up to see Percy come in with a scowl on his face. "I understand that an all, but your brother has been bullying Hermione here for the last few days. I don't know if it's something she's done, I've done, or his own failures that he's acting out on. Don't know, don't care at the moment." He shook his head, his hands shaking.

The Prefect grimaced and looked to Hermione who was in tears. He said nothing as he walked down the steps to the boy's dormitory. "Why, Harry?" Hermione questioned.

"My own reasons," he answered and turned away. "I'd had enough of him berating someone who was trying to help. While you were pushy, all he had to say was for you to leave him alone. Would you have done that if he asked?"

Hermione stopped and thought about it for a moment. "Yes," she answered in a small voice.

"That, to me, is all the difference in the world. You have friends, Hermione. You are smart, smarter than me and Ron put together, but sometimes you can push too far to try and get your way. I cursed Ron because…" he paused trying to put words to his broiling emotions. "HE took it too far. I'd curse you if you took it too far one day too. I'd expect both of you to do it to me. Neville too for that matter. That, is what having friends is for. Now, I'm going to the library to finish reading up on those Colour Switching Spells. Fred has a date with my wand."

He sat alone in the library, unable to read anything in the book. His hands shook as he tried to get his emotions under control. He knew he feared losing the few friends he'd made. His eyes watered as he remembered how hated he was for something he couldn't control. He hated himself for being weak. He'd seen what happened to the boys who were weak.


	5. Chapter 5: Detention with Snape

AN: I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 5: Detention with Professor Snape

Ron refused to speak to Harry or Hermione the following day. Fred and George were livid at their brother's actions. Fred hit Ron with a Jelly-Legs Jinx and George scolded him in front of other Gryffindors in the common room. Harry looked up the counter-curse from Vindictus Veridian's book and helped the writhing and cursing redhead. Ron scowled and stalked off once he could use his legs again.

Hermione was distraught at breakfast. She blamed herself for driving Ron away. Harry came to her defense. Neville spoke up against both Ron and Harry's actions, something that surprised Harry. Neville squeaked and flinched when Harry rounded on him. He looked like he wanted to run away. Harry clapped Neville on the back and told him how proud he was of the round-faced boy for speaking his mind. Neville ate in silence with a confused look.

"What do you want to do this weekend?" Neville asked as they left Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class. They watched as Ron stomped off with a huff.

Harry tried to smile at his friend. "No idea, I'm still not used to having weekends free. Anything you want to do?" he asked, gripping his book tighter as they walked down the corridor. Hermione led the way back to the common room.

"Maybe, I'll go see if Professor Sprout will let me work in the greenhouses," Neville said, a soft smile stretching his lips.

"I can come with you if you want," Harry offered, but the other boy shook his head.

"You should enjoy your weekend, Harry. I know you don't care much for Herbology," the round-faced boy said with a shrug.

"Not true!" Harry laughed and held up the book in his hand. "Without Herbology, I wouldn't have nearly as many potion ingredients to read about," he said and faked a sour face. Neville laughed and sped up to keep up with Hermione. "I can still go for a while if you want, Neville."

"Sure, I'd like that," Neville answered.

Harry spent a lot of his time bouncing between Neville and Hermione when their interests conflicted. Neville wanted a friend to talk to about his plants. Harry was happy to listen to the animated boy explain in detail about the various magical plants, herbs, and fungi. He helped Neville with his homework and often demonstrated the correct way to perform a spell. The round-faced boy was smart and talented, but he lacked confidence.

When Harry spent time with Hermione, it was in the library. "Harry, what do you think about the Transformation Formula?" she asked. Harry did his best to answer.

While he loved spending time with his intelligent friend, she worried him as well. It became obvious how competitive she was at the end of the third week. She tried to one up Harry in all their classes and on the essays given to them for homework. After the row with Ron, he feared losing Hermione as a friend too. He felt torn between his desire to meet her challenge and his fear of losing another friend.

"You know more about it than me, but I think, wand power and concentration have a greater impact on Transfiguration than body weight or viciousness. The unknown variable is too abstract for me to wrap my head around," he answered as he read from the book between them.

"I don't know," Hermione hummed and pointed at a paragraph on the page. "Emeric says if you formulate the body weight and viciousness of the two objects, then wand power becomes a natural response to force the change."

"With enough power, you could change it through force," Harry countered. He agreed with Hermione but didn't want to say so. After a moment, he added, "however without sufficient concentration all of your work will fall to pieces."

"True," she responded with a bright smile. "What are you doing on Sunday? I found a book on Transsubstantial Transfiguration that looks interesting!"

"What? Transsubstantial? Is there a branch of Transfiguration like that?" Harry questioned.

"It means changing one substance into another! It would be amazing to turn something solid into a liquid," she answered while waving her wand.

Time crept forward as September rolled into October. Ron made friends with Dean and Seamus, ignoring his former Gryffindor friends. Hermione was on a roll gaining House points in many of her classes. Harry won a few here and there, mostly for his Charms and Transfiguration work. Neville aced every question Professor Sprout asked him. Professor Snape's mood toward Harry worsened after he heard about the fight outside his class. Harry wasn't sure what Malfoy told his Head of House, but he assumed it hadn't been the truth.

"Harry, a word," Fred muttered as he hooked an arm around Harry's shoulder, leading him away from the Entrance Hall.

"Yeah?" Harry asked as he watched George glance around the corner to the next corridor. "Something wrong with your beds?"

Both twins stopped and frowned down at Harry. "We weren't aware of anything wrong with our beds," the twins chorused. "Care to explain, Potter?"

"Nope, have fun with that one," Harry laughed. "What did you need?" It had taken him a lot of testing and luck to pull off the prank. He would not give away too much if he could help it.

"Malfoy has it out for you," Fred started in but Harry cut him off with a bellowing laugh.

"Oh, I'm aware. I heard he took my Curse of the Bogies rather hard. Poor blighter had to run off to Madam Pomfrey. He shouldn't have been trying to corner Amanda after dinner. Muggle-born, Mudblood, whatever he wants to call someone, that is no excuse to threaten their families." The young Ravenclaw girl had burst into tears and run off as Harry confronted the three Slytherins.

"Right you are, Harry, but what we need to inform you," the first twin started.

"Is that ickledraco and his two pet gorillas," the other continued.

"Are going to try and ambush you at some point soon," both finished in sync. They looked somber.

"Really? That sounds kind of fun," Harry answered with a shrug. Malfoy hadn't scared him or even bothered him in any way during their few confrontations.

"You've got a screw loose, Potter," the twin chorused. "We won't forget about whatever you did to our bed though." Harry laughed in response and watched as the twins ran up the marble stairs. He hoped the substance he'd created would stay long enough for the twins to at least see his handiwork.

One morning, Harry received an invitation from Hagrid to meet him after class at his hut. He and Neville went down to see the gamekeeper of Hogwarts. Hermione complained about the Acceptable score she received in her last Potions homework and wanted to understand why she got the score. Harry received an Exceeds Expectations, something he wasn't going to tell Hermione. The end-of-month homework-slash-exam essay Professor Snape had given them required a foot in length. Harry had turned in a little under two feet in length because of his professor's recent dislike for him. The instructors at Providence always warmed to him when he put forth a little more effort than normal. It must have worked, seeing as Professor Snape hadn't given him a Poor like of all his other assignments.

A small hut by the Forbidden Forest was easy to miss due to the number of trees. A wide, worn path through the grass was the only sign of where to find Hagrid's home. Hagrid was bustling about in front of his fireplace when Harry and Neville arrived. The giant, it seemed, had left the door open to let the billowing black smoke escape. A massive black dog looked up from his spot beside Hagrid and let out several booming barks.

"Back, Fang. I said back!" Hagrid bellowed as he grabbed the collar around the giant dog's neck. Fang stopped inches from Harry, huge white teeth glinting, his claws scraping on the wooden floor. Harry froze, eyes wide, at the large dog in front of him. Something wet assaulted his face a moment later.

"Ughh," Harry gasped as he wiped his face with his robe. The smell of the putrid funk seemed to linger as he scrubbed his nose and face harder.

"Fang looks vicious but is a huge softie. Here, throw him a biscuit," Hagrid said as he offered a granola bone the size of Neville's forearm. Harry took it with a grunt and looked to the dog in front of him. Fang's tail was waving a mile-a-minute, banging against the furniture and floor. Drool pooled on the floor next to the waiting hound.

"Uh, here," Harry muttered and tossed the bone to Fang. He shuddered when the dog caught the bone in his mouth and chomped down. The ease at which the dog ate the heavy granola bone bothered Harry a little. Neville looked pale.

"Hello, Hagrid. I got your letter," Harry called after he was sure the large dog wouldn't come after him or Neville for dessert.

"Have a seat," Hagrid called from the cauldron on the fire.

Harry looked around the small house for the first time. A large crossbow and a pair of galoshes were hanging from a peg by the door. Hams and pheasants were curing from the ceiling near the fire. A massive bed sat in the far corner with a patchwork quilt hanging over it. Fang's dog bed rested on the ground next to Hagrid's bed. Harry and Neville took a seat at the enormous table by pulling themselves up in the large chairs.

"Make yehrselves at home," Hagrid called as he pulled a plate of, something, out of the cauldron and set it on the table. Harry and Neville pulled a face when they saw lumpy shapes of mass resting on the plate.

"Is this food, Hagrid?" Neville asked as he peered at the plate.

"Not fer yeh, no. It's fer Fang. Terrible case of indigestion," Hagrid answered as he stood by the table, looking down on the two boys. "Yer look right happy, Harry. Yer mum and father would be proud."

Harry smiled a little back at the giant. Hogwarts had been interesting and fun. "This is Neville," Harry offered as he pointed to his friend. "Hermione is at the castle. Trying to figure out why Professor Snape gave her an Acceptable mark."

"Professor Snape is known ter grade harshly. Don't let it bother yeh." Hagrid stuck out a trash-can sized hand to Neville. The boy jumped and stared at the hand. "'ello, name's Rubeus Hagrid. Just call me Hagrid. Keeper of Keys an' Ground here at Hogwarts. Nice to meet yeh, Neville. Knew yer mum and dad too. Great people, the Longbottoms."

Neville shook Hagrid's hand and seem to wilt under his words. Harry didn't ask. They had an amazing time with Hagrid as Neville warmed up. The giant talked about the forbidden forest, the plants in the area, and some of the magical creatures he'd like to own.

"I'd love to have a dragon," Hagrid moaned as he pointed to an article in the Daily Prophet about a dragon sighting in Central Europe.

"Aren't dragons a little dangerous to have here?" Harry asked. Neville nodded as he looked around the wooden house.

"Still be nice," Hagrid muttered. "Ey, that's odd. Was a break-in at Gringotts Bank. Couple days after we were there, Harry. Still no news on why someone tried ter break-in. Heh, goblins don't like to tell what's going on in their bank."

Harry and Neville excused themselves after Fang let out a particularly nasty puff of gas. Hagrid held his nose and waved them off. He opened all the windows and stood outside while Harry and Neville walked back up to the castle.

Harry found Ron the next day watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practicing on the pitch. Casper Ward, a seventh-year, won his position as Seeker against a sixth-year boy. Wood was less than impressed with both boys if the rumors were true. The red-head boy had asked Harry to join him to watch practice the previous night. Harry, having no issue with Ron's recent behavior, agreed. The chance to repair their friendship made him excited. He was up before Ron and waited in the common room to head out to the pitch with the other Gryffindors. Angelina and Alicia waved to Harry. Fred and George were still upset about having to sleep on the floor. They hadn't figured out how Harry had stuck their four-poster beds to the ceiling.

"Magic just won't work," one of the twins complained as the other nodded.

"My back has kinks in it from sleeping on those pillows," the other said. His face scrunched up as if he was going to cry.

"Suck it up, buttercup. I'll make you a trade. Teach me the Tickling Charm and I'll get your bed down for you," Harry offered. The twins looked at each other and grimaced.

"We don't know that one well enough," they intoned.

"Ah, well, I guess it's pillow power for your nocturnal needs."

Angelina laughed and threw an arm around Harry's neck. "I'll teach you the charm if you knock it off a little. Fred and George are right gits when they don't get enough beauty sleep."

The twins spluttered their indignation as Harry accepted the older student's offer. He savored the priceless look on the twin's faces when he told them used Mr. Filch's No-Drip Sealing Glue from the broom closet. He was glad the glue lasted as long as it had.

"You've upped us this time," Fred intoned, his eyes bright.

"Call it a truce?" George finished as he stuck out a hand. "Truce and we let you in on a secret."

"Secrets are fun," Harry answered and shook the twin's hands in turn. "Truce until one of us gets bored."

"Our thoughts exactly," the twins chorused and laughed. Harry laughed with them. Angelina, Wood, Alicia, and Katie Bell, the new Gryffindor Chaser, all looked at them like they were crazy.

Harry and Ron watched the practice from the stands. In reality, Ron watched while Harry used the benches and overhead beams to do exercises on. The two boys spoke little as they watched the practice. Ron commented on the tactics the Chasers used and complained when one twin sent a Bludger flying close to where they sat.

"Why do you hate me?" Ron asked after a long period of silence.

"I don't hate you, Ron," Harry answered as he finished a set of squats. "I couldn't stand the way you were attacking Hermione like that. I do apologize for cursing you. It wasn't the right thing to do."

"Oh," Ron muttered, his eyes following a player on the pitch. "She just annoys me. She knows everything and doesn't mind rubbing it in our faces."

"Does she? Yeah, she is smarter than both of us put together. Maybe, even throw in Neville except in Herbology. She is a worrier and was trying hard to make friends. Next time, tell her to back off. Don't attack her for her intelligence."

Ron grunted and grumbled to himself. "I don't think anyone is smarter than Neville about Herbology," the red-head conceded.

Harry didn't push the conversation. Ron watched the rest of the practice in silence while Harry worked out. He noticed Ron watching him from the corner of his eye more than once but didn't comment on it.

The following week, Ron was friendlier to Neville, Hermione, and Harry but didn't hang out with them after class or insert himself back into the group.

Fred and George's prediction came true the week after their warning. Harry had just exited the library after dinner when a spell flew past his face. Surprised, he dove back into the library. The book he dropped thudded on the carpet as he drew his wand. Madam Pince hadn't been nearby or she would have dressed him down for harming a book. He peeked around the corner and noticed the corridor was clear.

Just as he exited the library again, another spell erupted from the end of the corridor by a suit of armor. Harry blocked it with his bag, causing it to rip and spill its contents onto the floor. He looked up to see two hulking figures at the other end of the corridor, their wands drawn in his direction. Harry ducked back into the library just as two students were about to leave.

"I wouldn't recommend leaving just yet. Someone has been sending spells this way," Harry advised and raised his book bag to show the rip. The tall, slender girl on the left had her hair up in a bun while the other blonde girl wore a bob-cut.

The Ravenclaw girl snorted and stepped over his pile of things in the corridor. A moment later, she flicked her wand and deflected a spell into the wall beside her.

"Come out, you cowardly Slytherin. Only cowards would hide when no teachers are around," she challenged. The sound of running footsteps answered her challenge. "Some first or second years by the look of it," she announced as she put her wand away.

"Blonde boy about my height?" Harry asked as he repaired his bag with his wand.

"Friends of yours?" the Hufflepuff girl asked.

"Something to that effect. Thanks for the save," he said, turning to the slender Ravenclaw.

"Always pays to help a celebrity," the girl answered with a small smile. "Especially a cute one."

Both girls laughed as Harry felt his face heat up. They wished him well and went on their way. Harry looked over his shoulder as he made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

He told Neville and Hermione about the ambush outside the library. Hermione was scandalized at the idea of someone being attacked while at a library. Neville looked pale and clutched his quill tighter. Harry told them that while he didn't think Malfoy would attack them, but they did need to look out for the Slytherin boy.

Malfoy all but admitted he ambushed Harry during their next class together. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled to themselves as they sat behind the blonde boy. Harry shrugged at Malfoy's taunt. It angered Malfoy who promised to teach him a lesson later. Professor Snape heard the young Slytherin's threat as he walked in the door. He glanced at his young charge before walking to the front of the class to begin the lesson.

The next day, Harry finished dinner and headed toward the library to finish his Transfiguration homework. Two blue spells struck him in the chest as he ascended the marble stairs. He went flying backward and bounced off the wall. Gasping for breath, he rolled out of the way of another spell that struck the floor near his foot. He ducked behind one of the suits of armor and drew his wand. The sound of laughter came from the marble stairs. He popped his head out from behind the armor for a moment and ducked back as three spells struck the wall around him.

"_Mimblewimble_!" he cried as he peeked around the suit of armor again, aiming for Malfoy in the center. The spell hit the blonde boy in the face when he pantomimed Harry's flight. Crabbe and Goyle shot two spells at Harry in response.

He ducked back behind the suit of armor and was about to step back out when a voice called from the Entrance Hall, "POTTER!".

Harry kept his body in cover while he looked over his shoulder. "Evening, Professor Snape," he answered.

"What do you think you are doing?" the Potions professor questioned as he closed on Harry.

"Protecting myself from three would-be attackers. Or is three-on-one a common sight for Slytherins?"

"That will be ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter! Another ten points for attacking a student and a week of detention with me," Snape growled. "Put your wand away."

"Sure, Professor. Let me get my bag from where they attacked me from," Harry answered and strode over to his bag that he dropped. "Prepare for hell, Malfoy," he whispered as he closed on the stuttering and babbling boy.

"Can I go to the Hospital Wing for hitting the wall before we do this detention thing?" Harry questioned rubbing his shoulder.

"You don't need the Hospital Wing, Potter! Don't be such a child. Another ten points for lying."

"One question professor, not talking back, just asking. Is there such a thing as pressing charges on another student?"

Professor Snape froze and glared at Harry. "Not without sufficient evidence," he said with a feral sneer.

Harry grinned back as he locked eyes with the Potions Master. "Good, I'm VERY glad to hear that." The oily-haired professor looked taken aback by Harry's statement.

**XXXXX**

Harry felt pleased in a sick sort of way to hear Madam Pomfrey declare he fractured his shoulder. He was even more pleased when he explained why he'd had to wait a day before coming to see her. Harry tried not to laugh at the look on her face when he explained that Professor Snape had forbidden him from going to the Hospital Wing and made him serve detention, scrubbing out dirty cauldrons, with the broken shoulder. He knew something was wrong when he couldn't sleep on his shoulder without crying from the pain.

The look Professor Snape gave him the next Potions lesson was almost worth the lack of sleep and pain. What confused Harry was the grudging amount of respect he thought he saw in the older wizard's eyes. Harry's detention didn't affect his work ethic or his attitude toward Potions. The class was still his second favorite, Charms being first and Transfiguration being third. Hermione scolded Harry when she found out he lost thirty House points and got detention. Fred and George congratulated him on his first detention.

The detention for the Potion Master wasn't as bad as Harry thought it might be. While cleaning the cauldrons without magic was slow and boring, it allowed him access to some of the rarer potion ingredients. On the third day of his detention, Professor Snape walked in on him, studying his Potion book while cleaning.

"Potter! What do you think you are doing?" Snape hissed from behind Harry.

"Uh, reading professor? I'm cleaning the cauldrons but can I at least read the course material?"

"Detention is a punishment, not Study Hall. Put away your coursebook. If I see it out again, I will extend your detention."

Harry shrugged and put the book away. He went back to scrubbing the cauldrons but this time stared at the various jars on the shelf. An hour later, Professor Snape called a stop to the night's detention. "Do not bring your books to detention next time," the Potion Master said. He stopped and looked Harry up and down. "Your Potions marks are… adequate. Why try to study while you are doing detention?"

Harry stopped and frowned as he looked back at his professor. "Professor Snape, I realize you hate me. I don't know why, don't really care why," he ignored the snort that came from the older man. "Instructors and teachers are supposed to hate their students," he said with a shrug. Professor Flitwick and Sprout were exceptions to the rule. "I happen to enjoy Potions as a subject. It was one of the first things that caught my attention about the wizarding world. Being able to brew a drink, however disgusting the ingredients are sometimes, to change someone's life. As you said, brew fame, bottle glory, even put a stopper on death. It is an interesting and worthwhile subject to enjoy. Xylomancy, for example, should be buried."

The Potion Master had a complicated look on his face as his eyes lingered on Harry. "As you say, Potter," Professor Snape called before closing the Potions Classroom door. Harry served the rest of his detentions without issue.

**XXXXX**

"Malfoy," Harry called as the Slytherin boy walked down the corridor.

"Potter! I'm going to kill you," the blonde boy screeched as he drew his wand.

Harry was ready and shot a Knockback Jinx at Draco. It hit him in the chest, sending him flying into a wall. "Sorry, did that hurt, Malfoy? Here, let me help. _Rictusempra_!" A silver spell shot from the tip of his wand and hit the prone boy. Malfoy burst into laughter as he clutched his stomach. Tears fell down his face as he continued to laugh.

"Glad to see you're having fun," Harry smiled as he kicked Draco's wand further down the corridor.

It was lunchtime when Fred and George caught up to him. "I hear you used the new spell Angelina taught you," one twin said with a laugh.

"Poor Malfoy was found laughing his breakfast up by the Charms corridor. He kept trying to say you ambushed him. Poor bloke," the other twin finished.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry answered with a shrug. Ron laughed from across the table and gave him a thumbs up.

A little while later in the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione questioned him about the same thing. "Hermione, I'm not saying if I did, or I didn't. Now, are we going to finish Professor Binns' assignment or are we chucking it out as a bad job?"

If looks could kill, Harry would be six feet under. Hermione and Neville finished their eight-inch essays and swapped them so each could read the other.

"Hey," Harry said as he watched their practiced routine. "Why don't we make a Study Club?"

"What?" Hermione and Neville asked, looking up from their parchment in unison.

"A Study Club. Hermione is hands down the best witch of our year in theory. Not to brag, but I'm no slouch when it comes to practical application. Hermione, you beat me one of ever three spells taught in class when it comes to casting them. I don't have the head for all the history behind the spells or subtle changes like Transfiguration requires. Well, most of the time. Neville, you are, without a doubt, the best at Herbology bar none. Well, maybe a third-year or higher, but no one in our year for sure. I'm a fair hand at Potions. Why don't we make a study club?"

Hermione looked at Harry with a frown. "Why?" she questioned. He noticed she didn't turn him down.

"Why? Because, like you, I've read a little ahead. Some of those spells are tricky to manage. Without Angelina, I might not have understood how timing is important when casting the Tickling Charm. All of the subtle nuances of practical spell casting are hard to put into words. I get it, mostly, okay, okay, sometimes. I'll admit some selfishness to my request. Neville knows more about the plants needed for Potions than I'll ever be able to remember. Every ingredient is important in each Potion. You, Hermione, tie the three of us together. I'm happy to run along and do my own thing. Neville wouldn't step foot out of the greenhouse unless Professor Sprout threw him out, it was curfew, or it was to hide from Professor Snape. He does use the greenhouses sometimes, Neville." The round-faced boy looked horrified to have his least favorite person in what he considered a sanctuary. "You'd be just fine on your own Hermione, but I think sharing your knowledge is as much a pleasure for you as learning it. Am I wrong?"

He had another reason for suggesting the Study Group. He got tired of splitting his time between Hermione and Neville. The friends did a few of the homework assignments together, but Hermione spent most of her time in the library and Neville tried to put off his homework until the last minute. It would be easier, for him, to get everything done at once. He knew Hermione's intelligence intimidated Neville and it would act as a bridge between the two.

Hermione chewed over his words. "Will you stop harassing Malfoy?"

"No, that one doesn't get a pass. You'll notice I don't mess with any of the other students. You'll also notice that most of the other students have enough sense not to bully future coworkers. Malfoy will need to be kept in check if his Head of House won't do it."

"I'll think it over, Harry," she muttered as she turned back to the parchment in her lap.

"I think it would be cool," Neville said with a shrug. "I suck at casting all those spells and I want to get good marks. Gran has already wrote me once." The boy shivered and gave a weak smile.

"Potions you mean," Harry stated with a nod. "A lot of it, Neville, is remembering that each step is important. Like what we do in the greenhouse. If we don't clean out the old dirt then the fresh fertilizer won't work as well. Complete one step, move on to the next."

Neville froze for a moment before looking at Harry. "I never thought of it that way. It makes sense. I still suck at using the mortar and pestle though."

Harry laughed and opened his Transfiguration book. Professor McGonagall required a six-inch essay on Emeric Switch due before the weekend.

**XXXXX**

Harry tried to find ways to keep himself occupied over the weekends. While the vast majority of the Gryffindors were trying to finish their homework that had piled up for the week or looking for ways to have fun, Harry tried to do more schoolwork or wear himself out. Providence didn't believe in having "rest days". The curriculum had review days where the students could do self-study in the classroom. Most of the cadets would stare at the textbooks or nap. There were never days where the cadets had the entire day to do whatever they wanted. Harry used his friends as a tool to help have fun, but they liked their personal time too. At first, he used the time to explore the castle. After striking a truce with Fred and George, he spent a lot of the weekend time talking to them about jokes, listening to their dream of owning a joke shop, and learning the secrets of Hogwarts. The twins had a grand time showing him secret passages, places to hide if Filch came by, and where the kitchens were.

Oliver Wood, the Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor, increased their team's training days as the first game of the year was approaching. The first game against Slytherin would be in the second week of November. With Fred and George losing their free time, Harry had to find creative ways to entertain himself. Hermione sat by the fire with a book and liked to read the day away. Neville played exploding snap with some of the other Gryffindor boys while reading a book about plants.

"Harry, what are you doing to that poor cushion?" a voice questioned from the entrance to the common room. Percy walked through the open portrait and straightened his robes.

"Uh, casting spells at it, Percy?" Harry answered, confused why he was being asked. The shabby wreck of the once-red pillow sat forlornly in an alcove of the room.

"Why are you casting spells at anything IN THE COMMON ROOM," Percy yelled as he stalked over to the pillow and snatched it up. Feathers and fluff fell out of the many holes in the fabric.

"Was it your favorite cushion? Sorry, I can use another," Harry apologized and grabbed a different one off the closest chair.

"You're missing the point!" the older boy cried. "You are casing magic outside of class, in the common room no less! That is against the rules."

"Rules, what rules? I don't remember reading any rules like that?" Harry asked, trying to keep a straight face. "There are spells cast in the halls every day. Students bullying other students for fun. Teachers bullying students to get their jollies off. Professor Snape basically said as long as you don't get caught, do whatever you want."

Percy spluttered. "YOU will not practice your spell work in the common room. I am a Prefect so what I say, goes. Get out, Potter."

Harry scratched his head and shrugged. The Prefect had a point. They were the de facto authority figures for the Heads of Houses. "Sure, Percy. No spells in the common room." He left after gathering up his Transfiguration coursebook. He grinned and shot a Mending Charm at the cushion in Percy's hand, repairing any damage he'd caused. The older boy roared as Harry ran.

Harry found an empty classroom near the Gryffindor tower. A row of desks stood unused in a far corner and the chalkboard was face-down on the floor. While the room didn't have any cobwebs, it did have a thick layer of dust. "Well, I can have some fun at least," he muttered as he closed the door behind him.

"_Colloportus_!" he yelled, swishing his wand and pointing at the closed door. Nothing happened. "Well, I know where to start then."

**XXXXX**

"We will be revisiting changing an object into another," Professor McGonagall announced to her class. "You've changed matchsticks into needles and oak sticks into wooden boards. Remember the Transformation Formula of body weight, viciousness, wand power, concentration, and confidence. The unknown variable that affects all things is something we have little control over. Confidence to transfigure your object is paramount to success. Now, we will be changing ceramic dinner plates into kettles. Begin."

Harry frowned at the professor, struck dumb by a sudden thought. He raised his hand and waited for McGonagall to see him. She came over and looked down her nose at him. "Yes, Potter?"

"Uh, professor. Can I run something by you?"

"Obviously," Professor McGonagall drawled as she raised an eyebrow.

"I know we can put the formula into a math equation, but how does it equate to the precise wand-movements too? Is that what you mean by wand power or do you mean the force of will we push into the object?" He'd been mulling over the question for days after rereading through his Transfiguration coursebook.

"Mister Potter, wand power is a combination of both. This falls under the last part of the formula; the unknown variable. I have shown you a demonstration of one of the more complicated examples of Transfiguration. The symbol for the unknown variable, Z, appears in connection with all the other parts of the formula. Gravity is an example of an unknown variable in conjunction with body weight. The key to Transfiguration is experimentation and an aptitude for adjusting to different variables applied to your object. A simple wand wave will not suffice in this class."

Harry watched as the professor moved off to another student. He bit his lip and stared at the dinner plate in front of him. If it took barely any magic to change a match into a needle and a little more to turn sticks into boards, then it would be reasonable to say he needed to use a little more magic to change the weight. He imagined the plate wrapping in on itself to create a dome, added a small spout from the excess, and made it heavier. Holding the image in his mind, he pointed his wand at the dinner plate on his desk and willed it to change.

"Very good, Mr. Potter. Maybe think about making it metal next time. Take five points for Gryffindor for your first attempt," Professor McGonagall called from the front of the room. Hermione shot a look at Harry before focusing back on her plate.

At the end of the lesson, Harry was ecstatic. All those dreadful hours in math at Providence may have come in handy. Math was a subject he was good at but hated the instructor that taught it. Woodworking gave him a general sense of the weight of things, especially wood. After he'd managed to transfigure the plate into a kettle and back again, he played around with other objects in his bag. Professor McGonagall got exasperated with his antics and threatened to take the points back if he continued to not focus on the lesson.

"What has you so excited, Harry?" Neville asked as they sat down for dinner after class.

"Harry was being a muppet," Ron answered from the other side of the table. "This git sat at his desk and started transfiguring a quill into random objects."

"They weren't random! I'll have you know that I was able to transform that quill into fishing line. Oh the possibilities," Harry moaned as he looked up the table to Fred and George. The two stopped talking to Wood and looked at Harry. "Creepy, it's almost as if they know," he muttered as he turned back to Neville. "Anyway, how did you do?"

"My kettle looked a little white, but at least it looked like a kettle."

"My plate went all silver and I swear I heard steam," muttered Ron as he jabbed at a potato.

"Oh, Hermione, have you given any thought to the Study Club? I found a cool classroom not far from the common room. It is a little dirty but we could clean it up," Harry asked as he cut into a steak and kidney pie.

"I have given it some thought. I don't know. While it seems fine, wouldn't it be better to use the library?" the young witch asked as she tapped her chin.

"Can't perform spells in the library. That is worse than getting tossed out by Percy."

Ron snickered and shot a look at Harry. "He was livid after you left. I think you might have been right. He took that pillow to his dormitory."

"What do you say, Hermione? Study Club? We can name it, oh, I don't know, Dummies Anonymous or something," Harry joked.

"New rule, Harry names nothing in the future. All in favor," Hermione said with her hand held high. Neville, Ron, four other Gryffindors, and a Hufflepuff from the next table all raised their hands. Harry groaned into his hands.


	6. Chapter 6: Clubs and Halloween

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__. _

**Chapter 6: Clubs and Halloween**

"Harry, why do you have targets stuck to the walls?" Hermione asked as they entered the classroom Harry appropriated. The abandoned room near the Gryffindor Tower underwent a complete transformation. Harry removed all the dust and straightened up. He'd transfigured a broken piece of wood into a feather duster and gone to work. It had taken him a few days to transfigure the chairs into a rough approximation of the common room chairs. He used a Softening Charm on the transfigured chairs, as the seats were still hard. After a lot of experimentation, he changed the walls from a dark gray stone into a bright yellow and maroon color scheme.

"I spend hours working on the walls, the furniture, and cleaning the place up, yet you see the targets on the walls. Honestly," Harry muttered as he sunk into one of the five chairs.

"I think it looks nice," Neville muttered as he looked around the classroom. "Why canary yellow? Isn't that Hufflepuff's colors?"

"Yup, I still wonder if that shouldn't have been my House," Harry answered. Hermione shot him a confused look that he ignored.

"The targets are for me to practice my aim. Sitting, standing, running, crawling, crab-walking, and laying down. Not sure why I practiced crab-walking other than I fell over a chair and bruised my side. Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Right," Hermione answered with a tone of disbelief. "It's good to see you spending time on something constructive. You, Fred, and George are much too preoccupied with causing trouble."

"Happiness, not trouble. I didn't hear you complain when Lavender found her hair turning orange after she called you buckteeth. It took Fred and I all morning to figure out her favorite color. The least we could do for her," Harry answered with a flourish of his wand.

"They are bad influences on you," the witch muttered as she looked around. "There are a lot of things that could be improved on."

"We are in your care," Harry said with a bow. "I've been studying up on the Softening Charm, transfiguration, and the Locking Spell. I figured we'd want at least a little privacy."

"You did a brilliant job on the Colour Changing Charm, Harry. That's a fifth-year spell," Hermione praised as she looked around the room.

Harry grimaced. "Thanks but there is still room for improvement. You'll notice if you get closer how washed out the colors are. I can only get the spell to last a few hours too," he muttered as he glared at the wall.

"Harry, what are these?" Neville asked as he picked a black box up off the floor.

"Ah, a trick I used at Providence. Flashcards! If I was smart enough, I could enchant them so it would be harder to cheat. One side is the name of the spell and the other is the incantation. The second set of cards have wand movements on one side and the cause of the spell on the other. What I'd really love to do is enchant one card to have all the different spells, their descriptions, their history, the wand movements, and incantations. I'll bet I could sell it for a Galleon or three."

Hermione froze and turned to look at the card in Neville's hand. "Why didn't I think of doing that! Oh, Harry, an idea like that would take some complicated magic to pull off. Maybe you should make that your next project?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "I'm still working through my first-year coursework. That box full and has Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts spells in it. I have another for Potions that I'm working on along with Herbology. Those two would go well together. I'm dreading the task of finishing them for History of Magic. That is where I got my idea from. Providence had us use flashcards to learn different dates and events. Worked well for me so I thought I might give it a shot with magic."

"This widespread plant is known for the stinging hairs that grow on its leaves. It also goes by the name of Burn Hazel and is used as a main ingredient in the potion to cure boils," Neville read aloud. "Nettle or Stinging Nettle. Yup, I was right," he said as he turned the card over. "This is really useful, Harry."

"Try another one, they aren't all that easy.

Neville nodded and pulled another card. He grimaced before reading off the card, "this powerful plant has white flowers and is used in a potion to cure injuries." It took the round-faced boy a full minute before he answered. "Moly, it has to be Moly. Black stems and white flowers. Used to counteract enchantments." The boy turned the card over and a grin spread across his face. "Got it!"

Hermione watched with a smile. She picked up the other box from behind a chair. "This is the one with spells in it then?"

Harry shrugged and nodded. "I thought it was the one in Neville's hand, but apparently not."

"This large, dog-like spirit is fast and dangerous. It can be found in the Forbidden Forest and is vulnerable to a first-year spell," she read and frowned. "Definitely a magical creature. I should know this," she muttered and tapped her foot. "AH! Gytrash!" she yelled and flipped over the card. "Hah! Got it. That wasn't easy. You should have added which spell it was vulnerable to. While Red Sparks hurts it, the Fire-Making Spell doesn't even phase it."

Harry grinned at his friends. "Could I get help with the History of Magic cards, Hermione? Neville? Could you help with harder or more obscure Herbology plants? Make it as hard as you want, I'll memorize them at some point."

Neville's smile stretched from ear to ear.

**XXXXX**

"Ooh, Harry, that looks like it hurts," Hermione said with a gasp. She jumped up from her transfigured chair and looked Harry over.

Harry had been on his way to Charms with Professor Flitwick when Draco and his friends struck. This time he had another, sour-faced boy with him. Harry dove out of the way for the first two spells but got hit with the third. His legs went to jelly as he smacked his head against a suit of armor, causing it to crash on top of him. Crabbe got hit with his Hair Loss Curse in retaliation. Malfoy wouldn't give up and sent another curse at Harry. It bounced off the armor, leaving a dark mark on the polished metal, and hit a passing Hufflepuff second-year. Her face broke out into pimples, causing her to scream.

Harry used the distraction to cancel the Jelly-Legs Curse and silently thanked Fred. He threw a gauntlet toward the four Slytherins who ducked. He shot a Stickfast Hex at the unknown boy and used the breastplate as a shield.

"Hiding like usual, Potter!" Malfoy jeered. "Can't fight us like a man?"

"Can't win your own duels, Malfoy?" Harry shot back as he shot Red Sparks toward the group.

A white spell flew over his head and slammed into Goyle, causing him to freeze up and fall, face-first to the floor. Malfoy ducked another spell sent their way and ran. The unknown Slytherin tried to run but fell on his face as his boot was stuck to the floor. Crabbe, now without the hair on his head, ran off after Malfoy.

"Those two will pay," a venomous feminine voice snarled. The angry witch called from behind Harry. He turned to see a tall, slim witch with her face full of boils.

"Hang on, I've got an antidote here in my bag. Malfoy and I have been cursing each other all year. It's one of the few spells he seems to be good at," Harry offered as he opened his bag. He fished out a blue labeled vial and passed it to the girl. "We've got to run, now. Teachers will have heard the commotion. If I've learned anything this year, it's to be well away from any adults when trouble hits."

"Paige," the Hufflepuff offered as she downed the potion. Her face grimaced. "Always rough going down," she muttered before running off the way she'd come.

Harry blinked at the witch's quick escape. He scooped up his bag and ran after her.

"… so you see, Hermione, it isn't that bad. Just a bump," Harry responded with a lopsided grin. The bump on his head did hurt, but not enough to worry him. Since the start of term, he'd come to appreciate what levels of pain he could tolerate.

"Four-on-one now? Harry, this is getting dangerous," Hermione said as she bit her lip. "Maybe you should stop, let Malfoy win."

"You realize by keeping Malfoy busy, fewer students put up with his stupidity? I got two Sickles the other day in a letter from a 'concerned student'," he quoted with his fingers, "who wished me luck in my continued education of a certain Slytherin. Not going to lie, it sounds like Fred or George, but the thought counts!"

"Still, Harry, it's a matter of time before a teacher catches you again. Malfoy always gets out of it. You've had two more detentions because of this… war," Hermione said with disdain. "How many House points will you lose?"

"I've kept track, Hermione. I'm still ahead by a good thirty or forty points."

"Those points are to help the House win the House Cup at the end of the year! How could you be so selfish?" Hermione harped as she crossed her arms. "I've finished the History of Magic flash cards. They were pretty helpful on the last essay," she said, her tone thawing a little.

"Wicked! History of Magic is my worst class at the moment. Fred and George are still doing extra practices, but they promised to show me another classroom in case this one gets trashed or something. It's a matter of time before someone stumbles across it. OH! Speaking of which, I have a spell I want to work on next. The Smokescreen Spell so I can get out of these situations faster." Hermione groaned as she sat back in her seat.

"Harry, Hermione, I got an Exceeds Expectations on my Defense Against the Dark Arts essay!" Neville yelled as he ran into the Study Classroom.

"Ooooh, that is well done, Neville!" Hermione said with a smile.

Harry grinned and congratulated his House-mate. "So, Neville, you ready to show off those DADA skills and duel with me?"

Neville lost all color in his face and slumped in the chair. Hermione shot Harry a dirty look. Harry muttered about being serious but no one heard him.

**XXXXX**

"RON, you tosser. Don't hate on football just because it's a Muggle sport!" Dean yelled in the common room. All noise stopped as people watched the three first-years by the fire.

Ron's face matched his hair as he pointed to something in Dean's lap. "It's not right! Why would there only be one ball and one goal! It's not natural," the red-head bellowed.

"Oi, Ron, shove it," Seamus growled. "Get out of here with your Pure-blood idiocy."

"I don't have to take this from you," Ron yelled as he stalked off toward the portrait.

Fred and George watched from the other side of the room with frowns. Harry shrugged and turned back to the parchment they'd been working on. "Have you tried containing several red and green spark spells in a can? I guess it wouldn't really work. It would have to be a combination of Transfiguration and Charm work to keep everything together. Maybe a small container within the tube to contain the spells. Are there any spells that allow spells to bounce off, say a barrier?" he asked as he pointed at the parchment. "Say you charmed the tube to be impervious, I think it was called, and make a pocket for the spells to be in. Granted, I have no idea if that would even work."

The twins mulled over Harry's words and nodded to each other. "It might work, but we won't know until we start testing. Speaking of which, I heard you were looking for someone, or someones, to practice dueling against. Tired of limping back to the common room?"

Harry laughed and smirked. "I was wrong not to be worried. It doesn't mean I'm giving up. Four or even five on one is still a fun challenge. I watched a fight between two older students and was shocked at how fast they cast their spells. Glad we don't know anything worse than simple curses and hexes. A couple of our skirmishes hit some bystanders. I've got some target papers up in the classroom for aiming but it isn't like the real thing."

"Ah, yes the one not far from here. We see you there from time to time. You do realize you'll get caught at some point? Sneaking out after curfew is a bad habit for a first-year to develop."

"You've had some close calls as it is," Fred finished with a wink.

"You're watching me? How?" Harry questioned, looking back and forth between the twins.

"Our secret," both of the twins answered. Harry winced and shrugged.

"Got a decent spell that blocks Filch. I locked Malfoy in a classroom the other day with the same spell. It took him an hour of screaming for a professor before one found him to let him out. He tried every spell he could think of against the door but forgot to use the Unlocking Spell on the hinges." Fred and George stared at Harry before snickering. "Next time, I won't use magic," Harry laughed as he patted his bag.

"You know Harry, you're becoming even more famous than you were before. We're almost impressed by your ability to get away from Malfoy's ambushes. You wouldn't be hiding an Invisibility Cloak, would you?" George asked as the eyed Harry's bag.

"No, I wish. That would make getting Malfoy easier. No fun in that. I have a decent memory for maps. I had to stare at them enough in Social Sciences class. That's all we looked at for months on end it felt like. The Battle of this or The Battle of that. Why did Napoleon move his troops when he could have attacked from this direction? Interesting in some ways but dead boring. When you showed me around, I made sure to memorize and walk the secret passages as much as possible the first month or so. Do something enough and you get good at it. I still get lost sometimes though," Harry admitted with a small smile.

"We've been meaning to ask. It's almost Halloween; we have a little tradition to make it memorable. Got any ideas on how to get at your favorite nemesis?" Fred asked.

Harry grimaced and shook his head. "Not in a pranking mood to be honest. Maybe after Halloween," he answered with a weak smile.

"Ahh," George said with a knowing nod. "Sorry, everyone forgets what October 31st means to you."

Harry started, trying to figure out what the twins meant. It took him a full minute of silence before he realized they were talking about his parent's deaths and not from his time at Providence. "Ah, yeah," he answered a little lamely. It would be easier for everyone to assume it was about his parents than explain the truth.

"There, there, we won't draw attention to it," said Fred and grinned. "Now, we'll take this idea of yours and experiment with it some."

"We're still working on those _ninja-bombs_ you asked us about," George said as he stumbled over the unfamiliar word. "The Smokescreen Spell could be contained in a ball. We took apart a bunch of Dungbombs near Filch's office. Don't get too excited. We know how it is possible, just not how to replicate it yet. When we find out, we'll let you know."

"Thanks, guys. I know you guys are working on… that thing… but I appreciate you looking into this for me. I just don't have enough knowledge yet."

Fred smiled and George laughed before saying, "Without you, we wouldn't have the money to test our ideas. This is nothing."

Fred grinned wider. "We hate to admit it, but you're probably learning faster than we could have hoped to last year. It's barely two months into the term and you're dueling Slytherins."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "More like firing off spells and hoping something hits. Only good thing about being outnumbered is the greater chance to hit someone."

"Fred, George! Why did my bed try to chew on my robes!" an angry voice bellowed from the boys' dormitory. "With that, we take our leave," the twins chorused and ran out of the common room.

Percy appeared in the common room with a large chunk out of the side of his robe. "I heard them, where did they go!" he commanded as he glared around the room.

Harry cracked a smile as he watched Percy follow the twins out of the portrait. The twins had made progress with the Fanged Frisbees they'd purchased.

**XXXXX**

The professors roamed the corridors more frequently as Halloween approached. Harry continued to focus on Potions and Transfiguration. Hermione scolded him when she caught him changing various bits of parchment, quills, and chunks of rock into chessmen during a History of Magic class. Ron and Dean were taking a nap on the desk beside him. She scolded him but he laughed it off and explained he was practicing for Transfiguration after lunch.

Neville showed off with a stack of flashcards. Harry stared at the tower of cards with trepidation. "Neville," he asked, eyeing the sheer size of the stack. "Did you copy the entire first-year coursebook onto flashcards?"

"Not all of it, but a lot of it. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out ways to make the questions hard but fair. Here, Harry, try one."

Harry took a card and read aloud, "This ingredient is a pearly-white bean. It is the fruit of a marshland plant. Its juice may cause the drinker to lose their memory and his difficult to cut." He paused, trying to think of all the potion ingredients he knew. "I don't know," he said as he flipped over the card. Neville looked pleased. "Huh, Sopophorous bean. Didn't even know that was a thing," Harry mused. "Thanks, Neville, these will be helpful."

"Glad I could help, Harry. Could we try the Softening Charm again? I think I've almost got it," the round-faced boy asked.

"Sure, _Difindo_!" Harry intoned as he aimed his wand at a broken desk. The wood top to the desk cracked. Harry picked up a jagged bit of wood and handed it to Neville. "Remember, the spell is _Spongify_ and don't forget to do the wand movement with it."

"Right, thanks Harry," Neville said as he sank into a chair.

Harry read the Herbology flashcards as he helped his friend practice the charm. Professor Flitwick had given them all the task of being able to soften a chair seat before their next lesson. They would be in one of the older classrooms and warned the chairs were hardwood with no padding. While Harry was a little farther in his studies than his peers, he didn't have a complete mastery of the first-year spells. Charms was not a class he did other classes' homework in.

"Neville, this is really helpful!" Harry gasped after flipping through a few cards and getting most of them wrong. "I forgot that I'd read Horklump juice could be used healing potions. Wiggenweld Potion if I remember correctly. I just remembered it was used in the Herbicide Potion."

"Thanks, Harry. I tried to add as much information on the correct side as possible. It meant I had to make more cards, but I'm glad you like it," Neville answered with a smile. He waved his wand and pointed at the broken board. "_Spongify_!" he cried. The purple spell hit the board, causing it to shift a little. The Gryffindor poked the board with his finger and sagged in his seat. "It isn't working."

"Neville, walk me through your thought process," Harry asked as he studied his friend.

"I wave my wand in the S pattern, say the incantation, and push my magic into the spell," Neville answered. He shrugged and looked at his wand. "Maybe I'm not strong enough to cast the spell."

"Try this," Harry started and sat forward in his seat. "What do you want the board to DO. Imagine what the softening charm does to the board. Does it make it harder? Does it make it jelly? Think about how you want the board to change, like in Transfiguration. Hold that intent in your mind and try all the other steps you mentioned. Vindictus Viridian mentioned something like that in his book." Harry stopped and tried to remember the quote. "Imagine what will happen as you cast the Jelly-Legs Curse. Imagine your enemy flopping to the floor with no bones in their legs. If you do that, your enemies will fear your every spell," he rattled off. "Might be a little off the actual quote but close enough."

Neville tried the spell again to no effect. Harry encouraged his friend to keep trying. By the time it was curfew, Neville had made the board as soft as silk. Hermione beamed at his work and hugged the round-faced boy when she returned from the library. She scolded Harry for destroying Hogwarts property when she questioned why the piece of wood looked splintered at one end.

The first-year boy's dormitory was tense in the days leading up to Halloween. Ron had been surly and combative with everyone since his argument with Dean and Seamus. His attitude to Neville and Harry had worsened as well when Harry told him off for calling Hermione names again. The red-head's mood swings didn't bother Harry much anymore. Fred and George were muttering about taking ickleronniekins off to the broom closet and re-educating him on how to be a proper human again. Percy threatened to write to Mrs. Weasley. Fred, George, and Ron all looked horrified.

Harry and Malfoy had one more exchange of pleasantries in the corridor before the Halloween feast. The Great Hall had enormous pumpkins floating above the table, each with a face more grotesque than the last. The many banners in the Great Hall depicted different dark creatures instead of the House colors and there were sweets in some of the bowls on the tables. Harry went through the motions of eating and talking during the feast. Fred and George had transfigured their hats to look like ugly gargoyles. Percy was wearing sea-foam green robes thanks to the twins. Harry's robes had many long, narrow gashes in them, something the twins complimented him for, but it had been Malfoy's handiwork. The blonde boy at the Slytherin table was sporting a swollen eye.

"Malfoy doesn't look pleased," Fred said as he gestured across the hall.

"Got into a scuffle," Harry muttered as he pushed his food around on his plate.

"He the one that ripped up your robes then?" George asked, peering closer at Harry's face.

"Couple Severing Charms hit, no real damage. Couldn't dodge because of how I positioned myself. Instructor Elliot would have had my head. Just not feeling it today and reacted without thinking."

"That boarding school seems a little… extreme," Hermione mentioned as she stared at Harry as well.

"Nah, seemed fine. All the kids were going into the military anyway," Harry answered with a smile. His friend hummed in response, her eyes narrowing.

As Harry sliced open his baked potato, the Great Hall doors burst open. Professor Quirrell ran up the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. All eyes watched the stricken professor as he ran to Professor Dumbledore's place at the High Table. "Troll! In the dungeons! Thought you ought to know," he finished in a weak voice and collapsed to the floor.

Pandemonium reigned as screams echoed around the hall. A loud sound cut through the noise as a red spark exploded above the Headmaster. "Prefects, Head Boys and Girls, lead your Houses back to their dormitories immediately!" Professor Dumbledore ordered as he walked toward the fallen professor.

Percy jumped to his feet. "Gryffindors, follow me! Sick together everyone. No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders. Say close behind. Move along first-years!" Percy shouted and ordered other students out of the way so he could escort his charges back to the Gryffindor tower.

"I hope Ron is still in the tower," Hermione worried as they made their way up the marble staircase. "He refused to come to dinner because of Fred and George. They tried to transfigure his rat into a spider."

"Ah, that was why Scabbers was running around the common room then," Harry mused as he crested the stairs behind Percy.

A high-pitched scream echoed down the corridor ahead of them. Percy brought his wand up as they rounded the corner. The smell, like a toilet left uncleaned for a week, assaulted Harry as he made it around the corner behind Percy. The older boy had frozen, eyes wide, as he looked down the corridor. Harry couldn't blame him one bit.

A misshapen head sat on a dull, gray twelve-foot tall monstrosity. The troll, with a great lumpy body like a boulder, swung a club the size of Harry around the wide corridor. Another terrified scream came from in front of the troll as the club came down. The corridor seemed to shake with the blow as the figure threw themselves out of the way. The red-haired boy scrambled to his feet as he locked eyes with Harry.

"Ron!" Percy cried and sent a spell at his younger brother. The spell hit Ron and Percy jerked his wand backward. Ron slid along the floor toward the group of first-years.

"Percy," Ron groaned and got to his feet. "Just wanted… some pumpkin juice," he gasped and clutched his arm.

"RUN you git," Percy shouted and pushed his brother behind him.

The troll had noticed the group of students at the end of the hall. He roared a challenge, the club above his head scraping the ceiling. "Bloody hell," Harry gasped and shot a Knockback Jinx at the troll. It hit the troll in the face. The spell didn't knock the monster over, it seemed to only make it angrier. The deafening roar of the troll made everyone jump.

"Right, if you haven't already, RUN!" Percy screamed and shot another spell at the troll who was now lumbering toward them. Harry shot a Knockback Jinx at one of the suits of armor nearest where they stood. He knew how heavy they were and hoped it would slow the beast down a little.

The first-years took off running in different directions. There was screaming echoing through corridors. The armor did little to slow the troll down. A hollow crunch sounded as the troll stopped to stomp on the breastplate in the middle of the corridor. Harry had an idea when he saw the troll was about to repeat the process with the helmet.

He focused on the image of the ceremonial helmet becoming a metal spike with a gleaming point. The weight would be about the same. He pointed his wand and the helmet and cast the only metal changing Transfiguration spell he knew. A howl the likes of nothing he'd ever heard made him stumble back. His body felt weak as he held himself up with one arm against the wall.

The transfigured helmet looked like a small kettle, but it had become sharp enough to puncture the troll's foot. A hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to jump.

"Well done," a tall Gryffindor boy complimented as he peered at the troll. "That will only anger it more. Let's move and let the teachers handle it."

Harry nodded to the older student and followed him around the corner. The sound of clinking metal and more bellows from the troll followed them. "Potter, hurry up," the seventh-year student ordered.

It took two corridors for the troll to catch up to them. Harry felt weak and slow after the Transfiguration work. Both boys turned as the troll lumbered around the corner. "Sorry," Harry wheezed as he clutched his side.

"Keep running, I'll distract it, somehow," the older boy muttered as he looked toward the troll. "_Bombarda_!" he cried. A small explosion rocked the troll's head to the side. The massive beast stumbled as it clutched its head.

"_Flipendo_!" Harry yelled as he pointed his wand at the troll's club. The piece of wood shook as it slammed into the wall. "_Diffindo_!" he cried again, sending another spell at the club. This time the club broke off near the troll's hand.

"Incarcerous," the older student hissed. Chains appeared and bound themselves around the troll. It took the troll less than a minute to snap the binding. "Bloody hell."

"Incendio," Harry cast at the burning torch near the troll's face. The torch's fire blazed with light, causing the troll to stumble away for a moment.

"You should be long gone, Potter," the older student growled and shot another spell at the troll's head.

"Dominic, right?" Harry asked, trying to place the seventh-year student. He had little interaction with the older students except at mealtimes.

"Right in one, a pleasure to rescue you today," Dominic said with a laugh before shooting another spell. This time, the torch floated from the bracket and hit the troll across the head.

The troll, it seemed, had enough. It bellowed and threw the stump of its club at the boys. It bounced off the wall and hit Harry in the chest. He flew back a foot and collapsed on the stone floor. "Bloody hell," he groaned as he rubbed his chest. Breathing hurt.

"MOVE IT, POTTER!" Dominic screamed as the sound of heavy footfalls echoed around the corridor.

Harry looked up to see Dominic dodge the troll's rush, barely. The troll's arm had caught the older student mid-jump and thrown him against the wall. Harry struggled to breathe as the troll finished its charge. The bone-jarring thud of the troll as it ran into the wall was satisfying but did little to stop the rampaging monster.

It turned and looked at Harry. It charged and Harry knew he wouldn't be able to move fast enough. A jerk behind his neck was the only warning he had before he slid up the corridor and past Dominic, his wand pointing at Harry. The troll watched his quarry disappear and bellowed. He turned to the prone older student and charged.

"_Flipendo_!" Harry gasped and pointed his wand at Dominic just as the troll was about to reach him. The older boy flew, none too gently, down the corridor and away from the troll.

"That will do!" a voice called from behind Harry. He looked up to see Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape round the corner. With a wave of her wand, the torch on the bracket sprung to life and grew. It smashed itself over the troll's head, bending the metal holder still attached. The Potions Master shot a spell at the troll's legs, causing the beast to moan as it fell. Dark pools of blood erupted from deep cuts in the troll's knees.

"Trying to be a hero, Potter?" Snape sneered as he surveyed the scene.

"Living sounds better, professor," he gasped, clutching his side.

"Trolls," Madam Pomfrey moaned as she bent over Harry a little later in the Hospital Wing.

Harry had three broken ribs and a splinter from the wooden club lodged in his chest. Dominic had a concussion, broken ribs, a hairline fracture near his temple, and bruises everywhere. Harry's Knockback Jinx had saved his life but had also caused more injuries.

"You'll be right by morning," Madam Pomfrey comforted and patted his leg.

"You will both receive fifty points for Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said from the foot of their beds. "While you both should be scolded for trying to distract a full-grown mountain troll, your motives were pure. All the other students got to the common room. Ronald Weasley was given a calming draught and is fine."

Harry breathed out, thankful the youngest Weasley was okay. "Your transfiguration work was well done in the heat of the moment. I would recommend not trying new ideas if your life is in danger," Professor McGonagall offered with a thin smile. "I couldn't be prouder of both of you. Foolish though you both were. Both of you are a credit to Gryffindor. Rest for now. Harry, your homework will still be due by Friday."

Harry chuckled and groaned. He promised Professor McGonagall he'd done his homework already. Fred, George, Hermione, and Neville arrived the next morning to check on him. Madam Pomfrey was putting a soothing bandage over his sore ribs when they burst in. "This is a Hospital Wing," the older witch scolded and glared at the students.

Madam Pomfrey released Harry after the checkup. He went down to the Great Hall with the others. They kept asking questions about the troll and wanted a blow-by-blow account of what happened. Harry laughed and told them whatever they wanted to know. Hermione praised Dominic for his spells and wondered when they would get to learn them. Fred and George wanted to know if they could bottle the horrible smell of the troll.

Ron stopped Harry after breakfast. "Harry, I've been a prat," he said looking down.

"Not going to disagree with you there, Ron. What can I do for you?" Harry answered as he looked the red-head boy over. He spotted Fred and George milling around by the bottom of the marble stairs.

"I want to say I'm sorry. I will do better about not being a prat in the future." Ron answered in a stronger voice. "I… I've kinda been a bloody git the last few weeks." Harry waited. "Can I join you, Neville, and Hermione for the Study Group things?"

"It will depend on Hermione. She was the one you hurt the most with your words."

"Ah, yeah, I'll go talk to her then," Ron muttered and turned to walk away. "Thank you for the help yesterday, Harry. I heard you and Dominic distracted the troll while everyone ran." He walked away and nodded to his older brothers.

The week after Halloween flew by. Ron joined them in the Study Classroom after Hermione forgave him. Fred and George complained about their exhaustion from the schoolwork and Wood's Quidditch practices. Angelina transfigured the common room cushions to attack Wood one morning when he proposed that they do double exercises. Harry and Ron had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team's morning practices. For Harry, it was more out of boredom, whereas Ron watched so he could try out for the team the next year. The red-headed boy had learned to keep his unsavory comments to himself, something Harry was thankful for. Ron wasn't the most academically inclined but got most of the spell work for Charms after Hermione tutored him. Harry and Neville were spending a lot of time outside of class working on Herbology and Potions. Neville would quiz Harry on the different plants and ingredients that go into Potions while Harry would help Neville with his chopping, cutting, and prepping of the ingredients.

"Try this, Neville. Think of a clock. Prep your ingredients like the numbers on a clock. Here, look at the recipe for common poisons. Bezoar goes at twelve o'clock, the first thing you add. I would recommend doing the prep-work necessary before starting this, but we're not going to brew the potion. Well, we could. Hey, Hermione, you think anyone would have a problem if we were to brew potions outside of class?" Harry asked.

Hermione and Ron looked up from the coursebook they'd been looking through. "Oh, I'm sure they would get angry with us, Harry," she gasped and frowned.

Harry grinned and told Neville they'd brew the potion the next day. Harry showed Neville the rest of his method of making sure the potions were as close to the book as possible without forgetting any steps. "Wow, that could help, thanks!" the round-faced boy grinned. "Professor Snape still scares me," he muttered.

"Don't let that grease-bucket worry you. Focus on your potion and ignore him. Unless you are doing something wrong. Then listen to him. The Potion Master saves at least one student every Friday from their cauldron exploding."


	7. Chapter 7: The-Boy-Who-Flew

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__. _

**Chapter 7: The-Boy-Who-Flew**

"Troll Killer," Megan Jones, a Hufflepuff girl, called as Harry walked into Herbology one morning.

The title of Troll Killer had swept through the school after Dominic told everyone in the Gryffindor Common Room the story of what happened. His version of the story. Two love-struck witches hung on his every word. The Gryffindors spread the story around the school; the tale growing with every retelling. While some praised Harry for his inhuman strength and tenacity, others sneered and called him a liar.

"Professor McGonagall was the one to take the troll down," Harry explained for the umpteenth time. No one ever listened to what he had to say.

"Potter! Fame will not save you from my class. What is the third ingredient in the Antidote for Common Poisons potion?" the Potion Master asked in one of his classes.

"Unicorn Horns, sir," Harry answered without thinking about it. He and Neville had been over the flashcards back to front when it came to first-year potions.

"Good, ensure your potion is perfect, or I will deduct points. You know what goes in the potion, make sure you do it correctly."

Harry suppressed a groan. He knew every step involved in making the potion, but the temperature control of his fire would decide if the potion was perfect. The power and heat in his fire was something he was still struggling with.

"Very good, Mr. Potter! Take ten points for Gryffindor for an excellent display of the Levitation Charm," Professor Flitwick told him the next day.

Harry went through the motions in each of his classes. Ron was beside himself with excitement about the following Sunday. Gryffindors would face Slytherin in the first game of the term. Fred and George had a small scuffle with Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, the day before. Terence Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker, had been the unknown boy that attacked Harry weeks before. In retaliation, he shoved the larger boy into an unused classroom and slid wooden wedges into the cracks near the hinges. Filch had been the one to find the boy and gave him detention for being out of bed after curfew.

Angelina had her bag ripped by spells as she walked down the stairs to lunch one day. Katie Bell had pushed into an overripe pumpkin by the greenhouses as she left Herbology one day. Fred and George transfigured two books with wings to beat the Slytherin beaters in retaliation. The two teams were at each other's throats the entire week up to the first game.

"Casper has been quiet," Harry muttered as he stared across the common room. The tall seventh-year hunched over a long parchment by the fire.

"Ward doesn't care much about winning the game. Wood is furious. Something about finishing his N.E.W.T.s and not having time for Quidditch. Why did he try out if he didn't want to win?" Ron muttered, crossing his arms. "He did okay during the tryouts but has been… lacking ever since."

"Maybe the Chasers will make up for it. I heard Higgs was a last moment choice for Slytherin," Harry hypothesized. Quidditch grew on him the more practices he'd been to. Ron complained about Wood not letting them practice with the team. Harry was content with flying during their Thursday classes. Madam Hooch had nothing but praises for Harry's broom-work.

"How were your Potions marks, Neville?" Ron asked as he chewed on a chocolate frog. Harry shook his head at the red-head's table manners.

"I got an Acceptable. Hermione said it should have been an Exceeds Expectations, but I'm happy to get Acceptables. They are better than the Trolls I was getting before," Neville answered with a shrug.

"Well done," Harry laughed. "Professor Snape hates giving any sort of positive reinforcement, probably allergic to it or something. Hermione is right, you would have gotten an Exceeds if you'd had any other teacher."

"What about you, Harry? What did you get in History of Magic?" Hermione asked over her book.

Harry grimaced. "Acceptable on the last essay. I did well on the essay, but I mixed up the names of the goblins in THAT particular rebellion. All the information was right except the names."

Hermione hummed at him. "You were working on Transfiguration again?"

Harry laughed and felt his face heat. "Uh, maybe," he answered with a small shrug. Ron and Neville laughed as Hermione glared at him.

On Sunday, Harry got up at his normal time and shook Ron awake. The redhead wanted to show his support as early as possible for the Quidditch team. Harry had no luck in waking his friend. Ron snored and mumbled in his sleep.

Harry gave up and went up to the common room. "Hey Wood," he called. The older student was staring into the fire, muttering to himself and waving his hands in front of him. Harry realized Wood was thinking of different Quidditch maneuvers for his team.

"Huh? Hey, Harry," the burly boy answered as he looked around. "Is it already seven?"

"Barely zero-six," Harry answered and laughed as Wood frowned at him. "Almost six AM," he corrected with a smile.

"Zero-six? Never mind. What are you doing up so early?" Wood questioned.

"I could as you the same, Wood," Harry said with a laugh. "Couldn't sleep?" Wood just grunted. "I'm always up by five-thirty every morning."

"What? Why?" the older boy goggled and blinked. "Insomnia? Madam Pomfrey might be able to help."

"No, my body clock goes to bed by ten and wakes itself at five-thirty every morning. Boarding school was useful for something at least," Harry answered as he plopped down in the chair beside the Quidditch Captain. "Excited or worried about the game?"

"Always a bit of both. We've got a … good team this year. Not having Charlie, the twin's older brother, will make things harder but we've got this. I spoke to Ward last night. He'll give it his all today."

"Good, he might get lynched from the goalposts if he doesn't," Harry muttered as he thought of all the die-hard fans in the tower. "How do you feel about your O.W.L.s this year?"

Wood grimaced and ran his hand through his short hair. "My dream is to be on an International Quidditch Team. I've got decent marks but I don't know if academics is where I'm going to focus."

Harry smiled before replying, "I don't know what even interests me once I leave Hogwarts. I don't mean to sound conceited but I've got enough Galleons to live off for the rest of my life. I want to do something, just don't know what. Fred and George have a pretty good idea. Might go in that direction, inventing things."

Wood snorted and laughed before saying, "Those two will succeed in whatever they work at. I've never seen two more driven, or insane, individuals." Harry laughed and wondered what that made him.

Ron woke up on the third attempt. The Gryffindor team was getting ready to head down to the field. He cursed Harry then cursed himself for not waking up earlier. Harry watched in amusement as Ron got dressed faster than he'd ever seen before and managed to do it without putting his feet in the wrong trainers. At breakfast, Fred threatened to curse Ron if he hovered any closer to the team. Hermione and Neville watched on with amused expressions.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville found a spot around the middle of the Gryffindor side of the stands. It looked like the entire school was there for the first game. It took a full hour before the game began. Madam Hooch flew into the middle of the pitch and blew a whistle. The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams came out of the locker rooms and marched onto the pitch. Harry wondered if his ears would bleed from the sheer amount of noise in the stadium. He couldn't hear anything but watched as Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle in the air, signaling the start of the game.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too..." a booming voice echoed around the stadium.

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall's amplified voice remonstrated.

"Sorry, Professor," Lee said before continuing to commentate. Lee Jordan was Fred and George's best mate and would often get in trouble with the twins.

Harry had a great time. Lee's commentary made the entire match worth it. Professor McGonagall had to cut off the over-excited boy multiple times but never pulled him out of the box. Harry watched as Katie, Angelina, and Alicia worked in tandem to outplay the Slytherin Chasers. Fred and George cleared their path with well-timed hits at the Bludgers.

"GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" Lee screamed as Alicia got another past Miles Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper. "Gryffindor fifty to Slytherin ten. Flint takes the Quaffle dodges past Johnson..."

Harry watched, horrified, as one of the Beaters for the Slytherin team almost knocked Alicia off her broom. Madam Hooch awarded Gryffindor a penalty for the foul. The game devolved into a shoving match. Wood pulled Ward to the side and pointed at something. The Seeker said something back before flying back to the middle of the pitch, well above the action.

"Hey, isn't that the Snitch?" Harry asked, pointing toward one of the towers on the Slytherin side.

"Where?!" Ron yelled and squinted at where Harry was pointing. "I can't tell. Something golden is over there."

Harry watched as the Snitch flitted over the heads of the Slytherins. Someone from the Slytherin side shouted, causing a group of Slytherins to look up. "I do believe the Snitch has been spotted by the crowd," Lee called out. "Ward seems to have seen the Snitch and so has Higgs."

Harry watched as the two Seekers dove for the Snitch. "Ward is a little faster, but Higgs has the better line," he muttered. The two Seekers fought for position as the Snitch tried to getaway. On the pitch, the Chasers were fighting for the Quaffle near the Slytherin end of the field. Alicia hung onto her broom by one hand before one of the twins was able to lift her back onto her broom. Angelina had stolen the Quaffle but dropped it when a Bludger flew past her face.

"Oh, no! They are going to hit the tower!" Hermione cried as she covered her eyes.

"Ward will clip it and Higgs will have to fly around," Harry guessed. Ward glanced off one of the support beams, arm stretched out to get the Snitch. Higgs tried to go under Ward but had to veer off so he didn't hit one of the supports that jutted out.

"He's so close," Ron shouted as he jumped to his feet. The entire Gryffindor side of the stadium was yelling and screaming their Seeker on.

"Ward is gaining on the Snitch. Flint gets the Quaffle past Wood. Ninety to forty, Gryffindor," Lee called as the roar from the crowd grew. "Higgs has caught up and is neck and neck with Ward. Both are going for the Snitch."

The two Seekers collided and Ward fell off his broom. The two players were flying close to the ground but it seemed to do little for the Gryffindor Seeker. He hit the ground and flopped over twice before coming to a stop.

"WARD GOES DOWN!" Lee screamed as a roar of anger bubbled up from the Gryffindors.

"Madam Hooch is flying down to assess the damage. Higgs looks like he is trying to find the Snitch. Alicia has the Quaffle and is making her way to the Slytherin goalposts."

Madam Hooch landed next to the prone figure of Ward. She flicked her wand at the Seeker and got off her broom. "THE GAME IS OVER," she cried as she bent over Ward. "The Snitch has been caught." Her amplified voice echoed through the stadium. There was complete silence before the entire Gryffindor side erupted in cheers.

"Oh, is Ward okay?" Hermione asked as she squinted to where Madam Hooch was. She was waving her wand over Ward's body. Wood was the first to arrive and jump off his broom. He crouched beside his Seeker and spoke to Madam Hooch. The Slytherins were booing and shooting green sparks in the air. The Gryffindors answered with a deafening roar and red sparks being shot in the air.

Professor McGonagall ran across the pitch toward the whole Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Ward sat up, holding his arm to his chest. He clutched the Snitch in his hand but his hand was positioned at an impossible angle. As Harry watched, he noticed the Seeker's elbow looked broken.

"Oh, I think I'm going to be sick," Neville muttered as he watched the pitch. Harry agreed in private.

The party in the Gryffindor Common Room shook the windows. Casper Ward was sent to the Hospital Wing for multiple breaks on his right arm, left leg, and a severe concussion. He would need a few days to recover. Fred and George took him food and any gifts people had sent him. Ward was the hero of the Gryffindors. Higgs it seemed, had pulled Ward off his broom thinking he'd be able to get the Snitch. It shocked Harry to learn the Slytherin Seeker hadn't received detention.

Hermione retreated to their favorite classroom with Neville after a few hours. Ron refused to be anywhere other than near the Gryffindor team. Harry stayed a little longer before joining Neville and Hermione. It had been fun watching the game but the noise and celebration got old, fast. He sat down on one of the transfigured chairs and pulled a flashcard from the box on the small table. Hermione curled her legs under her as she settled in with a book and Neville muttered over a cauldron in the corner.

Harry and Neville had made potions in the classroom, much to Hermione's displeasure. The round-faced boy was more adept at Potions than Harry had realized. Harry used one of the owl order services to send off for a lot of potion ingredients. They'd already worked through a fourth of his stock in one week. For Harry, it had been worth every Sickle.

The Slytherins were out for blood by the time Monday rolled around. Malfoy and his cronies had more followers as they tried to disrupt and ambush Gryffindors in the corridors. Two second-years got hit with a multitude of spells and got sent to the Hospital Wing for a day.

"Harry, we should move as a group," Dean pleaded as they moved from the Great Hall toward Herbology.

"Probably a good idea," Harry answered with a grimace. His and Malfoy's mini-war had escalated to include a wider group of participants. None of their professors had mentioned anything yet, but he had a feeling they would if things continued to escalate.

The group of Gryffindors walked to the Herbology class without issue. Trouble was waiting for them when they got back to the Entrance Hall on the way to Transfiguration. "Potter!" Malfoy cried and sent a spell at him.

Harry had been talking to Seamus and caught unawares. The spell hit him and lifted him in the air. Three spells hit him before he could retaliate. He hit the ground and slid to a stop near one of the doors. His chest and ribs hurt. He was glad he hadn't dropped his wand. "_Flipendo_!" he coughed and rolled to one side. Two spells hit the flagstones where he'd been a moment before. Two other Gryffindors sent spells at the Slytherins. Harry fired a Levitating Charm back at Malfoy but it hit Crabbe instead.

"ENOUGH!" a voice roared. The last spells vanished in mid-air. Professor Snape strode out of the Great Hall looking around. "Potter! Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention. Granger, Twenty points for your buckteeth. Longbottom..." the Potion Master faltered as if confused. "Twenty points as well. Casting spells at fellow students is against the rules. All three of you will have detention."

The cry of indignation rose up from the Gryffindors causing them to lose another ten points. Malfoy and his group swaggered away. "This is so unfair," Hermione growled with tears shining in her eyes. "Harry, are you, okay?"

"Got to be paying more attention," Harry gasped as he rubbed his chest. "You have no idea what it means to me for you to fight back. Thank you," he said with a wide smile.

"Like I'm going to sit back and watch my friend get attacked," she answered with a huff. "I can't believe Snape. He watched the entire thing. I saw him come out of the Great Hall when you were lifted off your feet."

"Not to burst your bubble, but not all people are paragons of fairness," Harry muttered as he picked up his bag. "We will be late for Transfiguration."

The entire Gryffindor class was late for Transfiguration, much to Professor McGonagall's displeasure. She pulled Harry aside after class to explain the situation. When she heard, her face grew stern. "You shouldn't have attacked back."

"You mean, stand there, take any abuse and bullying thrown at me? Professor, why?" Harry asked as he sat forward in his chair.

"Apart from it being against the rules? I cannot condone your actions. Don't think I haven't heard about you and Mr. Malfoy's little war. It was a matter of time before it escalated to his point. Do not disappoint me, Mr. Potter."

Harry stared at his Head of House. "I'm sorry Professor McGonagall, I can't make a promise like that. Since I've arrived, I've seen nothing but low-level bullying since coming to Hogwarts. If I understand the wizarding world in general, the bullying doesn't stop here either. Malfoy's father seems to get his way through bribery and corrupt officials. The KGB and the USSR come to mind."

Professor McGonagall stared at Harry, her lips drawn into a tight line. "You've been warned."

Harry left feeling unsatisfied with the entire situation. Anger boiled in his stomach as he mulled over Professor McGonagall's words. While she had been correct, something that galled Harry to admit, he knew she could have done more to help her House. It wasn't a secret the entire Gryffindor House had confrontations of varying degrees since the Quidditch match. He wondered if Professor Sprout watched over her Badgers a little better.

The detention slips came at dinner. "Cleaning cauldrons with Snape again," Harry muttered.

"Professor Snape," Hermione chastised as she read her parchment. "I've got detention with Filch in the trophy room." Neville had to clean out the Owlery with Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy professor.

The trip down to the dungeons wasn't fun. Slytherins who saw him called out to him as "The-Boy-Who-Flew". Harry debated cursing them but decided against it. Words were words and they'd never bothered him much. Anger still lurked under the surface of his smile as he grinned back at the jeering Slytherins. His smiles and laughs seemed to confuse them.

"Potter, you may begin scrubbing the cauldrons in the corner," Snape ordered as he pointed to a long row of metal cauldrons.

Harry didn't speak as he pulled on his dragon-hide gloves and set to work. Time went by slowly as he worked in silence. The Potion Master sat at a desk scribbling away with a quill. Harry finished a cauldron, checked to make sure both inside and outside were clean, and set it down by the Potion Master. When he sat the third cauldron down and turned to walk away, Snape spoke.

"Your face gives you away. I expected hatred or anger. I did not expect disappointment from the likes of you, Potter," Snape sneered. He sat back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"Permission to speak freely?" Harry asked. It was a trick he'd picked up at Providence to mitigate the punishment he'd receive if the instructor didn't like what he had to say. It worked some of the time.

"Just say it, Potter," the Potion Master growled.

Harry thought the hook-nosed man sounded interested in his answer. "I don't get why you hate me, but I don't care about that. I don't really care about losing the time and scrubbing cauldrons nor do I care about House points. I guess I just expected better from someone I respected. Sucks to be disappointed, but there you have it." It gave him a surge of pleasure at the blank look he got from Snape. It was the equivalent of a normal person gasping in shock.

"I see," Snape answered, his sneer appearing back on his face. "Get back to work."

Harry shrugged and went back to cleaning cauldrons. He was honest with the Potions Master. Instructors had hated him at Providence because of the strange things that would happen around him. Instructor Kennedy in particular, a broad-chested dark-skinned man who taught Social Science, took particular pleasure in verbally abusing Harry whenever he could. The other cadets started to emulate the instructor's constant tirade of how pathetic and dumb Harry was. It had the opposite effect the instructor wanted, as Harry tried harder to get the answers correct instead of being cowed into submission. Dealing with Professor Snape's hatred didn't bother him at all. He knew the Potion Master was exceptional at his craft and yet he was still narrow-minded enough to play favorites and bully others. He wasn't angry, just disappointed.

"Potter, cleanup, it is almost curfew," the Potion Master called.

Harry grimaced and thought Snape had waited as long as he could before releasing him. He stripped off his dragon-hide gloves and tapped the glove with his wand. When he went to put the glove down, it brushed against his forearm. "Ah!" he cried as something burned his skin. Not wanting to get in more trouble, he tapped the other glove with his wand to clean it and shoved them in his bag.

"You have seven minutes, Potter," Snape called from his desk.

Harry refused to answer and started for the door. He looked over his shoulder as he went to open the door. His hand grabbed something fleshy. "AHHHHHH!" someone screamed.

Harry turned, startled by the scream. Professor Quirrell stood in the door, clutching his forearm. The professor's sleeve was around his elbow, exposing the blackening and charred flesh of his forearm. "POTTER! What have you done?" the Potion Master growled. He sprinted from his desk and toward the screaming professor.

"I don't know, professor. Something burned my arm as I was cleaning up, but that was on my forearm, not my hands," Harry answered in a rush. Snape pushed Harry aside as he crouched over the cowering Professor Quirrell. "Ten points from Gryffindor and another detention for your lack of care."

Harry refused to dignify a response. Professor Quirrell refused Snape's help and got to his feet. He looked shaken and paler than usual. "Sorry, Professor," Harry said as he tried to look at the damage.

"Q-Q-Quite all right," the pale professor said. "A-A-Accidents h-happen."

Snape glowered at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "I could see what Potter has burned your arm with," he offered. Quirrell's purple turban shook as he started to back away.

Harry's scar burned white-hot when he locked eyes with the young professor. Wincing, he tried to fight down the feeling that Professor Quirrell wanted to kill him. It was a visceral feeling of hatred that felt like a physical blow. He felt a little sad knowing another professor hated him for something he couldn't control. "Sorry again, Professor," he said again.

He passed Filch and Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, twice before he made it to the common room. The secret passages Fred and George had shown him saved him from getting further into trouble. Hermione, Neville, and Ron were all still up and waiting for him. "What took you so long?" Hermione questioned.

After Harry had told them what happened in his detention, Ron looked livid and Neville pale. "You burned his skin?" Hermione asked.

"It turned black and shriveled up. I have no idea what caused it. Look, the burn on my arm is tiny and red," he said as he pulled up his sleeve. A small spot of reddened skin stood bright against his pale skin.

"That is so weird," Neville said as he peered at Harry's arm.

Harry served his second detention with Snape, he refused to call him professor in his mind. The professor he respected was just a sad hook-nosed man with a lot of skill in Potions. Monday's Defense Against the Dark Art's class was rough. He'd always had a mild headache while in the class and attributed it to the multitude of smells and low-light of the classroom. After he'd burned Professor Quirrell, his scar wanted to punish him by burning any time the professor got close. It took a lot of concentration for him to focus in class on top of trying to understand the stuttering professor. He was just glad he only had the class twice a week.

Hermione noticed his lack of attention and questioned him on it. He waved her off, trying to play it off as just being a prat. She didn't buy his story but left him alone after he was able to answer her question about the lesson. Harry hadn't been paying attention at all but was glad he knew the answer from one of the many flashcards they'd made.

**XXXXX**

Harry's nightmares woke Ron and Neville one night. Dean and Seamus looked on as his friends checked on him. Harry played it off as being chased by the hook-nosed professor around the Potion's class, but he knew they didn't buy his story. The constant attacks brought back unwanted memories of his time at Providence. Every nightmare ended with the glassy-eyed round-face boy staring at him, a sad smile on his face. He overhead Ron and Neville talking to Hermione about him when they thought he wasn't listening.

Harry's nerves were on edge as he struggled to maintain a calm and collected mask. When all four of them were together, he would be a helpful, quiet friend. He hid as much of his growing skill from Hermione but she watched him with narrowed eyes sometimes when he tutored Ron or Neville. It worried him to think she might know or suspect him. With Ron, he cut up and joked. He had the least in common with Ron, but enjoyed relaxing with the boisterous boy. Harry thought Neville acted more shyly around him as time went on. He enjoyed the hours he spent with the round-faced boy in the greenhouse.

The Slytherins began acting up again as the third week of November rolled around. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws were the second match of the term. The Slytherins backed the Ravenclaws by jinxing and cursing the Hufflepuffs. With Malfoy's attention off Harry, he could move through the corridors without too much trouble. The blonde boy seemed to think he had Harry cowed with his "The-Boy-Who-Flew" moniker for him. The name didn't bother Harry but the fact Malfoy thought he won had.

The tapestry with two dueling sixteenth-century wizards on the front disappeared for a moment as Harry walked between the wizard's outstretched wands. He felt the cloth form behind him when the corridor became silent. It was one of the many passages and hiding holes he used to move between classes. The long corridor stopped at a dead-end. Harry tapped the stone near the floor and felt the floor beneath his feet shift into stairs.

As he walked out from behind the statue of a witch tied to a stake, he spotted Malfoy and his two henchmen at the end of the corridor on his left. He drew his wand and watched.

"Hart should come from the library. We'll get him as he goes back to the Ravenclaw tower," Malfoy monologued and glared at his companions. "Don't try for anything complicated. Hit him with Knockback Jinxes." Crabbe and Goyle nodded in unison.

Harry checked the corridor to make sure no one was around before stepping out from behind the statue. As soon as Malfoy screamed, "NOW!", Harry attacked. His Full Body-Bind Curse hit Malfoy in the back, making him seize up and pitch forward. Crabbe and Goyle shot a spell each down the connecting corridor before they realized anything was wrong. One Jelly-Legs Curse and a Tickling Hex rendered the other two helpless. He frowned at how easy it was when he was the one ambushing. "No challenge," he muttered as he made to duck behind the statue.

"_Stupefy_!" a voice cried from the direction Malfoy had been attacking. Goyle, who was giggling madly, stopped and lay still. Another red spell hit Crabbe a moment later.

"Whoever you are, thanks," the same voice called as a tall figure stepped over the prone body of Malfoy.

Adam Campell, a sixth-year Hufflepuff if Harry remembered correctly, kept his wand ready as he rounded the corner. His eyes locked with Harry's for a moment before raising his wand in a salute. He flicked his wand at the three boys and muttered under his breath. Ropes tied themselves around the Slytherins. He used magic to hoist them in the air and stuck them, face first, to the ceiling. He cast something at the floor before giving Harry another wave and leaving. Harry escaped just as he saw the lamp-like eyes of Mrs. Norris appear from where the disturbance had happened.

Small attacks happened all over the school for the week leading up to the game. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs hadn't drawn their wands on each other, but the tension was palpable. Slytherins caused as much chaos for the Hufflepuff players as they could get away with. Marcus Flint got detention for attacking the Beaters, Lewis and Liam Cole. The brothers, separated by a year, had left Potions one afternoon when the Slytherin Captain attacked. The Cole brothers spent the day in the Hospital Wing.

Ayden Robertson got hit with a particularly nasty hex or curse that had him in the Hospital Wing right up until the game day. Adam Campbell, the Hufflepuff Captain was livid. He ordered the team to travel in pairs and eat meals in the kitchens.

On the fourth Sunday of the month, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw played their game at last. Harry and Ron sat with the Hufflepuffs. They got a few confused looks as the Gryffindors had a section near the goalposts open for them. Harry ignored the stares and mutters. Sitting with the Hufflepuffs showed his support of the team and provided the best view of the pitch.

Harry wasn't an expert, but he judged the Chasers for each team were about the same skill level. Both teams played to their strengths. The Hufflepuff teamwork was alarming to watch. Lee, Sutton, and Robertson's ability to pass, cover, and interfere kept the score on Hufflepuff's side the entire game. While the Ravenclaw Chasers weren't getting in each other's way, they didn't have the same level of coordination. Harry thought the Ravenclaw Beaters would have given Fred and George a run for their money. Where Fred and George thrived on chaos, the Ravenclaw Beaters relied on precision. Every Bludger they hit disrupted someone on the other team. Their economy of movement awed Harry. Both team's Keepers were about the same in terms of skill.

Harry spent the most time watching the Chasers and Beaters. The Seekers often played high above the rest as they looked for the Snitch. The excitement wouldn't occur until someone had spotted the fast golden ball.

"I think," Harry started as he squinted toward the Ravenclaw leftmost goalpost. "I think that is the Snitch over there," he finished as a cloud overhead moved across the goalposts. The flash of gold happened twice in the space of a few seconds.

"Where?!" Ron said as he stood. Harry pointed to where he thought the Snitch was. "I don't believe it. I think you might be right," Ron muttered as they watched a golden flash flit around the grass.

"Humph," a voice said from next to them. "As if a first-year could spot the Snitch before our Seeker could. Elias is the best Seeker of the year!" a Hufflepuff boy boasted as he sat forward in his seat.

"Okay," Harry answered with a shrug. It didn't bother him one bit the boy didn't believe him. He went back to watching the Chasers and Beaters fight for dominance of the field.

"I wonder if Hart sees the snitch by the Slytherin tower?" Harry asked himself aloud. Hufflepuff remained in the lead as the game progressed. He'd seen the tell-tale flash of gold against the green banners across the stadium.

"What are you a dragon?" Ron huffed as he sat forward in his seat again. "Where?"

"Halfway up the Slytherin tower. The left one by where Professor Snape sits," Harry answered and pointed.

"Shut up, first-year," the Hufflepuff boy said but stopped a moment later.

"Hart looks to be diving for the Snitch," the Ravenclaw commentator announced. "Mills is hot on his heels!"

Harry watched as Hart was able to veer Mills off course with a complicated roll before catching the Snitch. "He is good," Ron muttered and Harry nodded in agreement.

"Best Seeker of the year!" another Hufflepuff boy cried as the entire Hufflepuff stands exploded in celebration.

The Ravenclaws' took their defeat with dignity, something Harry used against Malfoy in one of their lessons. The blonde boy had been livid when Harry compared the Slytherins and Ravenclaws. "Malfoy, at least the adults took their defeat with dignity. Slytherin, the spoiled children of Hogwarts, had to throw a tantrum for a full week after before they were satisfied with their loss."

Malfoy and his two gorillas had tried for three days to ambush Harry. The near-daily confrontations with the Slytherin first-years had made Harry wary of his surroundings. He still got caught off-guard, but his initial reaction was to cast the Smokescreen Spell and duck for cover. Harry tied a sacrificial book to his chest with an old bed sheet as a sling under his clothes. Ron laughed when he saw it, but Harry didn't care. The book as frayed and battered from the number of spells it had blocked. While Harry didn't get hit a lot, it was almost always in the chest when he was.

November rolled into December as the weather went from cold to freezing. Hagrid pulled an enormous tree behind him one morning at breakfast. Harry watched with some fascination as the giant erected a fir tree almost twice his height. Professor Flitwick stood in front of the tree after Hagrid secured the tree and began to wave his wand.

Ornaments, streamers, magical lights, and other odd objects appeared out of thin air before affixing themselves to the tree. Christmas had never been a happy time for Harry. With the Dursleys, his cousin got double his enormous weight in presents while Harry got tools and supplies to clean with. At Providence, it was a lonely affair as Mr. Lewis forced him to stay in the hotel room. The twins and Ron looked excited and wary whenever someone brought up the subject of Christmas. Hermione got into the festive cheer with sickening excitement in Harry's opinion. Neville mentioned his grandmother never gave much thought about holidays.

The professors increased the amount of homework as the holidays approached. Harry had to spend some of his mornings completing assignments for classes the same day. He watched as Ron and Neville seemed to struggle with their homework. They kept their marks above Poor only with the help of Harry and Hermione.

Ron's Potion marks had shown a significant improvement since he'd joined the others in the Study Classroom. Dreadful and Troll marks turned into Poor and a few Acceptable scores. Hermione was the only one who consistently managed high marks in History of Magic and Neville always was on top for Herbology.

"Uh, Potion Master?" Harry asked one day after double Potions. The class was filing out, getting ready to head to lunch, when Harry thought of a question. He waited until Snape was done cleaning up his desk before approaching.

"Potter, what is it?" the Potion Master asked. The hook-nosed man's eyes narrowed as he looked Harry in the eye.

"Why do we sometimes stir clockwise and other time counter-clockwise? I've looked through the _Magical Drafts and Potions_ book, but can't find the answer."

"Why do you want to know?" Snape asked as he sat back in his chair. "You barely scrape together Acceptables in my class and yet you are unsatisfied with the progress of your knowledge."

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "I've got heat control issues, true. It affects the potion strength and brewing time. It's something I've been working on. I was just wondering because there has to be a logical explanation of why authors would specify clockwise and counter-clockwise."

"You've given this some thought, why do YOU think it is?" the Potion Master questioned.

"It has got to do with the ingredients is my guess. The closest thing I could think of was how the stirring affects how the ingredients interact with the potion mixture. I haven't seen a recipe that starts with a stirring motion. Only after we have entered two or more ingredients into the cauldron, do we have any stirring directions," Harry answered with a shrug.

"Yes and no, Potter. Continue your research," was all the Potion Master said on the subject. He turned away and shut the door to the ingredient supply room behind him.

Frustrated, Harry left the classroom and trudged back up the stairs. He wondered if it would kill Snape to teach Potions to anyone other than Slytherins. Malfoy and his cronies were waiting for him at the top of the stairs. They didn't try and attack him though. "The-Boy-Who-Flew, excited for another year without your parents?" the blonde boy jeered. His gorillas chuckled beside him.

"At least I don't have mummy and daddy issues. The way you talk about your father gives me the willies," Harry answered with a smirk.

Malfoy sneered, his eyes flashing. "You'll go the way of your parents if I have anything to say about it. Mark my words, Potter," he threatened as he turned for the Great Hall.

Harry had no memory of his parents, except a strange green flash in his dreams sometimes. They were dead, simple as that. The sun rose and set, so did everyone's lives. He'd learned that harsh reality two years previously. Shaking off his melancholy, he joined the rest of the school for lunch.

His snowy owl, Hedwig, appeared the next morning, clutching two packages. It was the third morning in a row and had drawn the attention of his friends. "What did you buy now, Harry?" Ron asked as he poked one of the cylindrical brown packages. It had a green bow wrapped around the crumpled papering.

"You'll see," Harry answered with a grin. He'd never thought to give his friends presents until Ron had asked him what Neville might like for Christmas. Harry asked why Ron was giving Neville presents, it wasn't like he was Santa Claus or Neville's parents. Ron frowned at Harry and explained in a low, patient voice, why it was nice to get presents for their friends. It made Harry think about what his friends might like.

Hermione asked a similar question to Harry about Ron. Without looking up from his book, Harry answered that Ron would love anything to do with Quidditch. She sighed, sounding disappointed it wasn't something to do with schooling but agreed with Harry.

Most of the students complained about how long the classes were taking during the last week before the holidays started. Professor McGonagall passed a sheet around at breakfast for anyone who wanted to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday. The Weasleys' all signed the form and explained Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be visiting their son, Charlie, in Romania. Hermione decided to go back to her parents after mulling it over for a while. She said she wanted to stay, but Harry saw the look of homesickness many of the new cadets had after a month at Providence. Neville would be going home to spend time with his grandmother.

"Harry, you remember that project we were working on before?" Fred asked one morning just as the holidays started.

"Sure, you wanted to charm Cauldron Cakes to look like Pumpkin Pasties, right?" Harry answered as he looked up from his Transfiguration homework. With Hermione and Neville away, he'd gone back to using the Gryffindor Common Room.

"We've succeeded!" George announced with a wide grin. "It isn't transfigured to be a Pumpkin Pastie, it is still a Cauldron Cake that looks like a Pumpkin Pastie. Could you imagine someone's face when they bite into a chocolate-covered raisin and find it out it's an every flavored bean? Hah!"

"That is impressive," Harry praised as he looked at the sweet in Fred's hand. "You guys ever figure out what you wanted to call your… uh… business?" he finished as he pitched his voice lower.

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," the twins answered in unison. "We think it has a certain ring to it."

"Brilliant," Harry said with a wide smile. "Let me know if you need anything."


	8. Chapter 8: Christmas Cheer

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__. _

**Chapter 8: Christmas Cheer**

The holidays reminded Harry of how different his life had become. He sat in the library reading a book about famous witches and wizards in history after being told to leave the common room with Fred and George by Percy. He'd gotten bored with reading through more abstract Potion books as he searched for the answer to his question about stirring potions. Potions remained one of his favorite subjects, despite his troubles with Snape. Transfiguration became his favorite subject even when he got a splitting headaches while in class. The spell-work required precise formulas and a controlled use of power to achieve what he wanted. He enjoyed the mental workout.

"Professor Dumbledore with the help of Nicholas Flamel, the creator of the Philosopher's Stone, discovered the uses of dragon's blood through Alchemy? Wasn't that on his Chocolate Frog Card? This book looks old though. Wonder how old the Headmaster is?" Harry muttered aloud as he flipped through the pages. "Alchemy is an ancient branch of magic concerned with the composition, structure, and magical properties of the four basic elements. Alchemy has roots in potion-making, Muggle chemistry, and transformation magics. Spagyric is plant alchemy. Bet Neville would be interested in that."

He read about Eulalie Hicks, a renowned Charms Professor at Ilvermony School of Witchcraft and Wizard somewhere in the Americas. Newton Scamander was a Hogwarts student at one point and an author of one of his coursebooks. Harry read the five pages devoted to the Magical Beast loving man. He found another book to find the definition of a Magizoologist. It sounded like a person who worked at a zoo, but Harry wanted to make sure he wasn't wrong. It meant the study of magical creatures so he figured he wasn't too far off.

As he flipped through the pages, the title Head Curse-Breaker jumped out at him. He remembered Ron talking about his eldest brother wanting to be a Curse-Breaker. The book talked about some of the more famous witches and wizards who, during their time, had performed tremendous services to the wizarding world. It was a little troubling to read how many of those witches and wizards later died from other curse-breaking attempts.

Harry found various activities to do until Christmas. He often felt restless and bored without classes or fights with Malfoy. It shocked him to realize he'd gotten so used to being paranoid about being attacked that it took him three days after Malfoy had left for him to relax in the corridors. The study classroom had also undergone some change. He put a Softening Charm on every flagstone he could and transfigured the remaining desks into an obstacle course. He ran, jumped, crawled, climbed, and slid his energy out every morning and before bed. The familiar routine from Providence helped calm his mood.

Ron introduced Harry to wizard chess. Harry was already familiar with chess Muggles played but wasn't expecting some of the challenges wizard chess posed. The pieces were alive and many had their own unique personalities. He imagined it was a lot like directing troops in battle. He'd tell a pawn to move somewhere only for it to grumble about being oppressed. One of his knights tried to tell him he couldn't move left for any reason. "Left is a bad decision, always move right," the stubby knight informed him. Harry got the knight sacrificed for a bishop and didn't bat an eye. Some chessmen were polite while others reminded him of the war veterans that visited Providence. The chessmen he had were from Seamus and didn't trust him at all.

Ron won a lot of the games, but Harry managed to win a few too. Chess was a gentleman's game at Providence, and they had required him to learn the basics. Exploding snap was another favorite past-time of the two boys. Seamus, Ron, Harry, Fred, and George would sit around the long table in the common room and tell jokes or ghost stories as they played.

The twins went with Harry to the kitchens to get snacks the night before Christmas. Harry knew where the kitchens were, but had no reason to it visit before. The Hogwarts Kitchens were down a flight of stairs near the Entrance Hall. They tickled a pear on a painting of a bowl of fruit, making it turn into an iron handle to open the door to the kitchens. "What are they?" Harry asked as he walked in the large door. Four long tables sat in the middle of the large room with various cooking surfaces lining the walls. There were stoves, burning away, food being prepared, and large boxes that had ice sickles hanging from the side. What caught Harry's attention was the little creatures with bat-like ears and bulging eyes the size of tennis balls. They wore tea towels over their thin bodies and had long fingers and toes.

"House-elves," George informed him. "Hogwarts has about a hundred that do the daily maintenance around the place. You know, do the bed, fluff up your pillows, cook the food, and so on. Dead useful. Our family doesn't have enough money to have a house-elf. Mum's always wanted one."

"Hey, Harry, George, want anything to take back to the common room?" Fred asked as he turned away from one of the house-elves.

"Uh, no, thanks though," Harry said while looking into the large eyes of the house-elf Fred had been talking to.

"They enjoy serving wizards and are magically bound to whichever wizard takes them into service," George continued as he took a plate from the closest house-elf.

Harry ended up leaving with two plates of his own when the house-elves pleaded with him to take food. The experience was unnerving as he lay awake in bed that night. The house-elves existence brought unpleasant memories of his life with the Dursleys.

It took Harry a little longer to get up the next day. Ron jumped out of bed as soon as Harry called his name, looking around the dormitory. "Merry Christmas!" he yelled as he untangled himself from his bedding. Scabbers squeaked and gave Ron an indignant look when he found himself launched across the room in Ron's excitement. The rat had been sleeping on top of the blankets when Ron threw them off.

"Merry Christmas," Harry answered with a grin as he got out of bed. "Oh, huh, I've got some presents," he muttered as he looked toward his trunk. There was a pile of packages scattered across the top of his trunk and a few had even fallen on the floor.

"What did you expect, turnips?" Ron giggled as he turned to his own presents. There were a lot more than Harry had. A pile of different-sized packages lay across Ron's trunk and more than a few were on the floor. One had found its way under his bed.

"Hagrid sent me something," Harry muttered as he pulled a thick brown parcel off the top of his pile. A hand-carved wooden flute fell out when he unwrapped the packaging. He could see the knife-marks where Hagrid had taken the time to carve out what looked to be a griffin. Harry blew into the flute and winced. He was still grateful for the present and made a note to get something for the lovable giant.

A lumpy package was under the flute, so he began to open it. "Oh, I know who that's from… my mum," Ron said from beside Harry. "I told her you didn't expect any presents and … oh no … she made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron and opened the package. A thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge fell out. "Every year she makes us a sweater," Ron muttered as he opened his own package. It was a maroon sweater with a large R on the front.

"That's really nice of her," Harry muttered as he turned his sweater over. Mixed feelings were welling up in his chest as he looked between the two hand-made gifts. He wondered if he should get out his carpentry tools and make something before the end of the break to send back to them.

Hermione had given him a book on Transfiguration by Betella Asger. He flipped through the book and smiled. The author talked about different theories and practices on the best way to calculate the necessary changes for each transfiguration. He put the book down and picked up a package from Neville. A glass spinning top was sitting in a box when Harry pulled apart the packaging. He picked it up and turned it over. A slip of parchment was resting at the bottom. "Sneakoscope, the best method of keeping away enemies and detecting deception," Harry read aloud and shrugged.

"Oh, wow," Ron said as he came over to Harry. "A Sneakoscope! I've always wanted one of these. Neville knew what to get you, with Malfoy trying to do you in all the time. Maybe we can set it up in that classroom."

Ron hadn't gotten Harry anything which didn't bother him. He'd only gotten a present for his friend when Hermione asked about what to get Ron. The last package was from an unknown sender. It felt very light as he opened the wrapping. Something fluid and silvery gray puddled to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," the redhead muttered as he bent down. "If that's what I think it is… they're are really rare and very valuable."

"What is it?" Harry asked as he picked it up. The smooth fabric felt lighter than air between his fingers. It almost felt like flowing water from a stream, except woven into cloth.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak," Ron gasped. "Try it on!" he ordered with a look of awe spreading across his face. Harry shrugged and threw it over his shoulders. Ron yelled, this time more excited. "IT IS! Look down!"

Harry craned his neck forward to look down. He couldn't see his body. "Wicked," he muttered and pulled the cloak over his head. The material was see-through. Ron stood there, his mouth wide open. The redheaded boy was a little grayed out but Harry could definitely tell it was Ron.

"There's a note!" Ron said as he pointed to the floor. "Who sent it?"

Harry pulled off the cloak and picked up the note. He read aloud, "Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you." He turned the note over and frowned. He read the note again and stared at the narrow, loopy writing of the sender. "That's mysterious," he muttered.

Ron muttered about having wanted one for ages. Questions bounced around in Harry's mind as he stared at the cloak. Who'd sent him an Invisibility Cloak? It had belonged to his father? He knew his dad's name was James, but he knew nothing about him or his mum. He promised Ron they could test out the Cloak sometime soon.

Fred and George entered the dormitory with a crash. The door had bounced off the stone wall and knocked some presents off Ron's trunk. Harry stuffed the Cloak into his robes as the twins descended on Ron, "Merry Christmas, Ron!" one of the twins said while the other laughed. "Harry got a Weasley sweater, too!"

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" one twin asked while the other picked Harry's sweater up. "Harry's is better than ours, though. Mum obviously makes more of an effort if you aren't part of the family. Hey, you don't have a letter on yours. I suppose she doesn't think you'll forget your name. We're not stupid, though. We know our names are Gred and Forge."

The twins laughed as Percy stuck his head through the door. He looked around the room with a scowl. He'd been halfway through his presents by the ripped packaging in his hand and a lumpy sweater over his shoulder.

"P for Prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one," Fred ordered with a laugh. Percy looked taken aback for a moment before the twins snatched the sweater off his shoulder and shoved it over his head.

"I… don't… want," Percy tried to say through the sweater. Fred and George had managed to get it over their brother's head but not all the way on. Harry could see Percy's face outlined in the knitting.

"You're not sitting with the Prefects today, Perce. Christmas is a time for family! Ron, get your sweater on, now!" George said as they frog-marched Percy up the stairs.

Harry put his sweater on and laughed as Ron cursed under his breath about having brothers. "Ready?" he asked his friend.

"Hang on," Ron said as he finished opening his presents. "Blimey, thanks, Harry!" the redhead said as he pulled a book out of a white package. "_Quidditch Prep For International Players_ by Titus Dryden. You remembered!"

Harry laughed and clapped his friend on his back. Ron had mentioned wanting a guide on how to get Quidditch ready for the next year. He wanted to try out for the Seeker position. "Welcome, now let's get some food."

The Great Hall was festive and soft music played from somewhere overhead. The other Weasleys were already in the hall. By mid-day, it was snowing. Harry found himself embroiled in a magic snowball fight. The twins had transfigured two great towers from which they hurled snowballs the size of small cauldrons at Harry, Ron, and Percy. Harry transfigured a rounded wall so the large snowballs would bounce away or add to the wall's mass. Ron guided his snowballs with his wand to try and knock his brothers off their tower. Percy used magic to burn holes in the twin's tower while transfiguring his snowballs to chase the twins around.

A few other students joined in the snowball fight. By the end, there were four fortified structures made of snow and Harry was waterlogged. All the Gryffindors went back to the common room to dry off. The twins went back to causing trouble once they'd dried out their socks. Percy chased them around the room when he found out Fred had stolen his Prefect badge. Harry and Ron laughed. They played a few rounds of wizard chess after everything had settled down. By the end of the day, Harry felt it had been the best Christmas he'd ever had.

The next morning, while Ron was still asleep, Harry tried out his Invisibility Cloak. He didn't have a particular destination or goal in mind as he wandered the halls under the Cloak. He walked by Mr. Filch without the older man noticing. Mrs. Norris sensed he was there but didn't alert Flich to his presence. As Harry was coming back to the tower, he noticed Percy walking past with a towel and his shampoo. With nothing better to do and curious why the Prefect was walking away from the showers, Harry followed him. On the fifth floor above the Hospital Wing, Percy stopped in front of a portrait of a confused wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands. Percy spoke a password and the portrait swung open to reveal a wide, luxurious bathroom. The room had a deep sunken pool in the center of the room, filled with crystal clear water. Harry was about to follow Percy in to see more of the bathroom but thought better of it.

Harry shoved the Cloak into his robes as he stepped out from behind a painting near the Gryffindor tower. Apart from his close friends, he didn't want anyone to know about his Cloak. Harry and Ron spent the day playing more wizard chess, exploding snap with anyone in the common room, and discussing the possible outcome of the Quidditch matches. Harry argued Hufflepuff and Slytherin would be the ones to watch while Ron said the Hufflepuffs got lucky.

Neville and Hermione came back to Hogwarts a few days before the start of class. Hermione thanked Harry for her schedule planner. He'd found an advert in one of the Zonko's Joke Shop leaflets for a reminder planner that spoke to you every morning about the assignments due for the next day. Neville grinned and thanked Harry for a year's subscription to Botany and Me. The monthly magazine had articles on exotic and rare plants. Fred and George said nothing to Harry about their present, but he noticed more Zonko's products had appeared in the common room. He'd expressed his desire to remain a "well-wisher" in the note. Hermione had given him an earful when she found him experimenting with the joke products one day with the twins. It was easier for him to slip them money than it was to deal with listening to her lectures.

Before the end of the holidays, Harry spent his mornings carving a large walking stick out of an oak board George got for him. He didn't ask where the redhead procured the timber, but thanked him all the same. The cane was almost as tall as he was when he finished. He used the Severing Charm multiple times to help him form the body of the cane and used his tools to carve a dog's head for the top. It took him a lot of time, but he was happy with the result. He sent Mrs. Weasley a thank-you letter for the sweater and got back some sweets for his trouble.

"Now that you've wasted time over the holidays. I have something harder for you bunch of dunderheads," the Potion Master said as he looked around his classroom. He sneered when he looked at Harry and the other Gryffindors.

"The Antidote to Common Poisons is an antidote to counteract ordinary poisons such as creature bites and stings. You have one hour to complete your potion. The instructions are on the board," Snape said as he entered the class. With a flick of his wand, the instructions appeared on the whiteboard.

Harry read over the instructions and grimaced. If anyone was going to finish the potion within the time-limit of the class, they would have, at most, fifteen minutes to get everything prepped. He scrambled to get the ingredients from the storeroom. Harry, Hermione and Malfoy realized the problem and sprung into action. Daphne and Zabini were seconds behind Malfoy. The rest of the class looked lost as they stared at the instructions on the board.

Ron and Neville followed Harry's example and set up a Potion Clock, as Harry liked to call it. Bezoar, crushed to a fine powder, at twelve o'clock, two measures of Standard Ingredient at the three o'clock position, a pinch of unicorn horn at six o'clock, and mistletoe berries at nine o'clock to finish the preparation.

By the time Harry got to the simmering potion of the recipe, he had forty-seven minutes before the class ended. It would give him around five to ten minutes to complete the last five steps of the potion. He knew the Bezoar wasn't crushed to as fine a powder as the recipe called for.

"Here you are, sir," Harry said as he passed over his vials of the Antidote to Common Poisons. There were three minutes left to spare in the class. Hermione and Neville had turned her vials in a minute earlier. Malfoy would be cutting it close. Everyone else was still waiting on their cauldrons to finish simmering.

The Potion Master took his vials and squinted at the liquid. "Adequate, Potter," he muttered and marked something down in his book.

Not wanting to have anything else to do with the hook-nosed wizard, Harry returned to his seat and waved his wand over his cauldron to clean it up. Ron breathed out a sigh of relief as he cleaned up the table they'd been working off of.

All the other classes had similar, time-sensitive tasks to complete. Harry got the feeling it was to instill a sense of urgency after the holidays. Professor McGonagall explained that they would be working on Switching Spells, something he was looking forward to. Indeed, he was the first to switch the handles on two different mugs, earning him ten points to Gryffindor. He thanked Hermione for the Transfiguration book he'd gotten for Christmas as it helped him understand the concept behind the spell better.

Flying lessons were on hold until the weather cleared so all the first-years had extra free time on Thursday. The school canceled Herbology one out of three classes because of the amount of snow on the ground. Neville cursed the fact his favorite class got canceled but understood how delicate many of the plants were. Harry and Hermione spent the extra free time reading while Neville got roped into playing a lot of wizard chess with Ron. The round-faced boy couldn't say no when Ron kept asking. Harry wondered if Ron was allergic to learning but didn't let it bother him like it did Hermione. To Harry, magic was more fascinating than any class he'd ever had at Providence.

The trips between classes became dangerous again when Malfoy returned. Harry dodged two attacks and a detention by the end of the third week. The blonde boy had it out for him. Not every confrontation was one-sided. Harry walked away from one ambush outside the showers with a cut on his chest and arm. Crabbe and Goyle took Malfoy to the Hospital Wing after the confrontation. Harry shot a Stickfast Jinx at the blonde boy and caused him to hit his head on the floor. His wand never left his hand if he could help it, even while showering.

Harry noticed the spells Malfoy used were becoming more dangerous. He couldn't call them lethal, as none of them could kill on contact, but the Severing Charm, with enough force or in a vulnerable place, would draw blood. Harry was thankful the Potion Master started to go over the Wiggenweld Potion. The potion had the power to cure injuries. Harry brewed the potion outside of class and kept a vial of it on him at all times. It was the hardest potion he'd attempted to date.

"Harry, you look pale," Hermione said one day after he limped into the common room.

"I need to learn how to better protect myself, yesterday," Harry answered as he pulled out a vial from his robes. He drank the murky turquoise-colored potion with a grimace. He pulled out his wand and waved it over his robes, fixing the large gash along one side.

"Ohh, Harry, you should talk to Professor McGonagall," Hermione said as she looked him over. "Harry is that blood?!" she squeaked and yanked his robe aside. Harry's undershirt had a large red stain around a long gash. "That is from a Severing Charm! Harry, that is dangerous. They should be expelled for that!"

Harry laughed and smiled. "Probably," he admitted and shrugged. "I'm crazy but I'm actually having fun."

It was the wrong thing to say. "FUN! YOU CALL THIS FUN!" Hermione screamed in his face. The common room grew quiet as they looked toward the two first-years. Her face turned a little pink under the scrutiny of the Gryffindors. "We'll talk about this later," she hissed.

"Don't I get a say in this," Harry muttered as he felt the skin around his ribs knit back together. "Why have I never thought of healing magic? I should have looked up healing magic or whatever the wizarding word for it is."

**XXXXX**

"This is awesome!" Neville whispered as they crept down the corridor after curfew. Harry had promised to take both Ron and Neville out to explore under the cloak. Ron had wanted to sneak into Madam Hooch's broom closet and fly around on the better brooms, but Harry axed that plan. Harry showed Ron where the Prefect bathroom was instead and told him to get Fred and George in on a plan to prank Percy. The redhead's eyes glowed with excitement at the prospect. Neville wanted to sneak out to the greenhouses to look at the more dangerous plants. Harry again, nixed the plan in the bud. Their footprints in the snow would give them away for anyone who was watching.

Instead of going out to the greenhouses, he showed Neville where the kitchens were. The house-elves didn't care they were outside curfew and piled sweets on them. Neville shoved the sweets in his robes as they made their way back to the Gryffindor tower. A noise in the corridor ahead brought them to a stop. Harry strained his ears to listen for any sign of who it was. He looked around to gauge where they were and the closest secret passage to them. A thump behind them sounded close.

"In here," Harry muttered and pushed open a door on their right. They ducked into an empty classroom and Harry closed the door again. "_Colloportus_," he whispered as he pointed his wand at the hinge of the door.

"Harry, look," Neville muttered behind him.

Harry turned to see a large mirror standing in one corner of the room. He saw desks pushed to one side of the room like he'd found in the abandoned classroom he'd appropriated. He nodded to Neville and listened at the door. Footsteps passed the door and he could hear murmuring up the corridor. A minute later, the murmuring stopped and the sound of footsteps grew fainter.

"Can we check out the mirror?" his friend asked.

A silver-framed mirror had runic marking along the top of the mirror that read: "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi". There was a silvery sheen to the glass and light seemed to emanate from the mirror itself. "That… is a whole lot of nope," Harry muttered as he looked at it. He'd read about powerful artifacts in plenty of fantasy novels and this mirror fell right in that category. He didn't know what the mirror did but knew it was some sort of artifact.

Before he could do anything, Neville was in front of it. The excited boy froze as if hit by the Full Body-Bind Curse. His face drained of all its color. Harry jerked his friend back by the neck of his robes. "Neville, speak to me. That mirror can't be good. Neville?"

Neville's color returned to his face and tears started pouring out of his eyes. A moment later he started sobbing quietly. Harry, unsure of what to do, covered them with the Cloak in case someone came to investigate. It took a while for Neville to calm down, his sobs fading to wheezes. "Sorry, 'arry," he hiccuped.

"Seen worse than a few tears. Whatever you saw isn't real," Harry said as he helped his friend to his feet.

"Me mum and dad," Neville said in a thick voice. "They were smiling."

Harry hadn't expected that strong of a reaction from Neville seeing his parents. He expected some horror from the abyss or something similar. He wondered what he would see. "Well, I must admit I thought it would be something more demonic than your parents," he said with a shrug. "Half expected tentacles and dark portals to the unknown. The mirror looks like every evil artifact from any fantasy novel I've ever read."

Neville chuckled and shrugged. "Don't wanna talk about it," he said with a hiccup.

Harry patted his friends back. There was a powerful sense to know what he'd see in the mirror. He meant to glance over his shoulder at it but instead found himself looking at it square on. He sat behind the High Table in the Great Hall, in Professor Dumbledore's spot. Behind him, ten people stood. Their faces became more visible as he flicked his eyes between them. A woman stood to his right, smiling and waving to him. He was sitting there, with a long white beard and the same robes as Dumbledore. A man stood on his other side, tall with untidy hair, just like his. He looked back to the woman and noticed her long, dark red hair and green eyes, his green eyes. It took him a moment, but he realized he was looking at his parents. Behind them were men and women who had similar features as he had.

His eyes drifted to an overweight boy with a round-face sitting in front of the High Table, his wide, innocent eyes staring back. Harry's eyes filled with tears. He jerked his gaze away from the mirror and shuddered. "The dead," he muttered to himself.

"How? My parents aren't dead," Neville answered with a frown. "What did you see?"

"My mum and dad as well. Looked like my whole family for like three generations or something. That mirror is evil," Harry muttered, but something tugged at his chest. Something powerful. "Let's get back to the common room," he ordered and started for the door. Neville followed in silence.

He had one of his reoccurring nightmares that night. At four in the morning, he woke covered in sweat and shaking. His nightmares continued for almost a week before he did something about it. The mirror called to him in his dreams. Thick, black tentacles grabbed him and pulled him into the mirror. Shapes of those dead memories walked through the mirror at him. Hermione and Neville became worried about his lethargic attitude. He distracted himself with wizard chess when Ron asked if he wanted to play.

"Are you really okay, Harry?" Neville asked one morning as he stepped into the common room.

Harry looked up and put on a fake smile before answering, "yeah, just working through some things."

"Was it what you saw?" the round-faced boy asked. He sat down in the chair next to Harry and stuck out his hands to warm by the fire.

"Partially," Harry admitted with a shrug. "I saw you got another Acceptable in Potions. Well done, mate."

"Don't change the subject," Neville responded with a glare. "Want to talk about it?"

"No, not particularly," Harry responded with a sigh. "It happened a while ago, Neville. Talking about it won't help." They sat in silence until Ron and Hermione arrived to go to breakfast.

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak tighter around him as he slid past Mr. Filch. He'd been a little too loud when using the marble stairs and Mrs. Norris had heard him. Less than a minute later, Argus Filch appeared from a tapestry on the wall, wheezing and looking for the student out of bed.

It took him a while to retrace his steps back to where he thought the mirror was. He thought if he could face it then maybe the nightmares would go away. It took him the better part of an hour to find the right classroom. He pushed as much magic into the Locking Spell as he could. If his dreams were any indication, he would not remain stoic for long.

Harry pulled off the Cloak and tucked it into his robes before taking a deep breath. He'd broken out in a cold sweat and the smell of body odor assaulted his nose as soon as he locked the classroom door. Taking another deep breath, he stepped in front of the mirror. Again, he appeared at the High Table in Professor Dumbledore's place. His family faded into existence around him. An overweight round-faced boy appeared in front of the table, his dark eyes staring back at Harry.

"Frankie," Harry muttered and felt his throat constrict. Tears blurred his vision as he stared at the cadet. The young boy was dressed in the black and gray uniforms of Providence Preparatory Boarding School. The uniform even had the mustard stain from lunch. Frankie seemed to blink as he stared at Harry and waved.

Harry broke. Tears ran down his face, obscuring his sight. The image of a broken boy's body appeared in his mind as wracking sobs escaped his mouth. "I'm so sorry," he repeated over and over as he stared at the mirror, not seeing. Salt and snot filled his mouth as he mumbled to the dead boy's image.

A firm hand made him jump and cough. He looked up into the concerned eyes of Professor Dumbledore. "I think, Harry, you should come away from the mirror," the old wizard said as he pulled on Harry's shoulder. Harry let the Headmaster pull him away as he tried to stop the tears. "Sometimes, our strongest desires stem from our greatest failures," Professor Dumbledore said with emotion in his voice. "Have some chocolate, it will help," he offered and placed a chunk of dark chocolate in Harry's hand.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled and chewed on the chocolate while staring at the wall.

"We learn from our mistakes, Harry. Mistakes are what make us human. I have a decent idea of what you saw in the mirror but fear not, I do not blame you as you blame yourself. If you need someone to speak to, to listen, my door will always be open to you. The Mirror of Erised will be moved tomorrow."

"Desire," Harry muttered as he shook his head. "A mirror reads backward. Erised is desire spelled backward."

"Very good, Harry. The Mirror of Erised shows us what we desire. Our deepest and most desperate desire of our hearts. If I guess correctly, you might have seen your family. You also would have seen a poor boy in an unenviable circumstance. I made some inquiries as to where you'd been for over three years after I'd found you again. Providence Preparatory Boarding School doesn't have the best record of taking care of their charges in recent years. Yes, I know what happened Harry and no I stick by what I said. I do not blame you as you blame yourself. There was a time when I was similarly in your shoes, though older than the tender age of nine."

Harry grimaced but didn't speak. Professor Dumbledore looked at him with sympathy. "Again, if you should ever need to speak to me, my door is always open. Many of your choices since joining Hogwarts have been influenced by your time at Providence, correct?"

Harry grimaced again and gave a quick nod. "I've got the characteristics of Hufflepuff more than Gryffindor. Just, when I saw Neville," he trailed off, thinking of the innocent round-faced boy that looked so much like Frankie.

"You would have been outstanding in any House you'd been sorted into. Your ongoing scuffles with Mr. Malfoy show a particular hardheadedness attributed to Hufflepuffs, yes. The speed at which you learn your coursework would have set you apart in Ravenclaw. Your particular lack of respect for school rules and adept skill in evading professors would have served you well in Slytherin. However, the most important characteristic and the one that shines brightest in you is your bravery. It takes tremendous amounts of bravery to face your fears," Professor Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Bravery to face your actions and show remorse is a stronger trait than any could ask for."

Harry laughed, not feeling very brave at all. "I guess a detention is in order?" he asked, pulling his robes tighter.

"I think," the old wizard mused, "tonight's events will have more impact than any detention I could give. IF you are caught outside of curfew again, well, then you will receive detention."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Harry said with a small smile. "Thank you… for your words as well."

Harry left after removing the Locking Charm on the door. He skirted past Peeves as the poltergeist bobbed along the ceiling, loosening the bolts on overhead lamps. The Fat Lady was less than impressed as she swung open to admit Harry. He hadn't taken the Cloak off and called out the password into the corridor. She'd been deep asleep in her portrait when the password was announced.

It took a few days, but Harry started to feel more like himself. Hermione, ever watchful, found interesting projects and bits of information for Harry to occupy his mind. She never asked what was wrong but took it upon herself to help however she could. Neville had, if anything, started to work harder on his studies. Harry pulled him aside and filled his friend in on what the mirror did. Neville nodded and inquired if he could see the mirror again.

"I went to see it the other night… to," Harry said before faltering. "To see if what the mirror showed was real. It showed my desire, like yours, was hard to see. Professor Dumbledore caught me and told me that the mirror would be moved somewhere else."

"Oh," Neville said with a small sigh. "Our heart's desire, huh. Yeah, I… that makes sense," muttered. "Thank you."

Things returned to normal as January rolled into February. Oliver Wood began his campaign to keep his team in shape for their game at the start of March. Harry's brief foray into Healing Magic proved fruitless as he couldn't understand what the author was trying to convey. While he was in the library one evening, Hagrid shuffled in and made his way to the Magical Beast section.

Curious, Harry followed the gentle giant. Hagrid fingered through several books for twenty minutes before stopping in front of a small section near the back of the row. "Dragons?" Harry muttered as he peered through the shelving. Hagrid's wide back blocked most of the books from his view, but Harry could make out a few books' titles.

Harry thought of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and wondered if the gamekeeper would try to raise some for Hogwarts. The Potion Master always complained about his ever-dwindling stock of ingredients. Having satisfied his curiosity, Harry went back to his book on Transfiguration to finish Professor McGonagall's assignment.


	9. Chapter 9: Kitchen Mayhem

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__. _

**Chapter 9: Kitchen Mayhem**

Ravenclaw and Slytherin played against each other the in next match on the last Sunday of February. Predictably, the Slytherins began their tactic of throwing off their opponents. Henry Hughes, the Ravenclaw Captain and Chaser, fought with two Slytherins as he came out of the showers. Since he didn't have a wand, he physically pummeled his opponents. All three students received detention. Aidan Ellis, a Chaser, found himself in the Hospital Wing without knowing who sent him there. Miles Reed, one of the Beaters, hit Marcus Flint with a Stinging Jinx when he was attacked. Both denied the attack and Marcus claimed he'd touched something funny in Herbology. Everyone ignored the fact he was found in the middle of the Charms corridor.

Malfoy found himself in the thick of the trouble when he tried to curse the Ravenclaw Seeker. The older boy blocked his curse and humiliated the blonde boy by changing his robes pink and dropping him off in the girl's bathroom.

Harry took the short reprieve in his war with Malfoy to work on counter-curses. Neville and Ron tired of his repeated requests to duel. Ron threatened to start cursing him if he asked any more. Harry, thinking it would be great practice if Ron started cursing him, kept annoying his friend. One day during their free time in the study classroom, Ron followed through with his threat.

Harry got blasted off his chair and bounced on the cushioned floor. "HAH!" he yelled and jumped to his feet, pulling out his wand. "Finally!"

Ron rolled his eyes and started shooting spells at him. Harry, having far more experience now than his friend, dodged and danced around the spells even though the two boys were about fifteen feet apart.

"Come on, Ron! Mean it!" Harry challenged and raised his wand. "Mean it or I'll start cursing you back."

Neville watched with amusement over his Botany and Me magazine. Harry missed it when the round-faced boy joined in too.

"Oof," Harry grunted as a Knockback Jinx hit him in the stomach. "There we go!" he yelled and started to laugh.

Hermione looked horrified at the three boys.

Thursdays after flying lessons and Sunday evenings, Harry, Ron, and Neville would have impromptu dueling bouts. Ron was fast but inaccurate, Neville was slower but his spells hit harder, and Harry struggled to dodge and use counter-curses. The boys only used first-year spells, except the Severing Charm. Harry enjoyed the physical and mental challenge despite the numerous scrape, bumps, and bruises he got for his trouble.

"Someone dropped you on your head," Ron groused one morning at breakfast. "You enjoy getting hurt too much for your own good."

Harry laughed and patted his friend on the back. "You like trying to curse me too much to stop."

Ron didn't answer back but gave Harry a broad grin.

The match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin was short. The Ravenclaw Beaters stymied their opposing Beaters at every turn with their skilled play, however the Ravenclaw Chasers weren't up to the physical battle for the Quaffle. The Slytherins had run up the score seventy to twenty before they spotted the Snitch. Ravenclaw's Seeker, Deans, had been out of position, on the other side of the pitch, when Higgs spotted the golden objective.

"That was disappointing," Ron griped as he flopped into a chair in the common room. "I don't envy our Chasers if we play them again. Adrian and Marcus were trying to kill the Ravenclaw Chasers. All they know how to do is play dirty."

"It is a tactic, however distasteful. The Slytherins have also won many of the Inter-House Quidditch Cups," Harry shot back as he pulled out a Charms card from his robes. He'd taken to keeping a stack of flashcards with him in case he got bored. The words never changed, so he knew most of them by heart, but they were still a good use of review material. "I'm worried about the Hufflepuff Chaser's teamwork. They looked amazing on the pitch before the holidays."

"You and me both," a voice called from the portrait hole. Oliver Wood stepped into the common room with a stack of papers. "I've been going over their strategies since November. Campbell has put together a strong Chaser base. Fred and George will do better than their Beaters on a good day, but it might be close."

Harry noticed the Quidditch Captain did not mention anything about their Seeker. Ward had soaked up the praise from his first game and landed himself a girlfriend. After the initial fame, he went back to his attitude of having to be dragged to practice. "Any idea if the Hufflepuffs will help the Slytherins attack our team?" he asked as he flipped over the card in his hand.

"Depends on how much of a threat they think we are. They have impressed me with their team all year but the others don't listen," the older student grumbled as he tramped past Ron and Harry, headed toward the dormitories.

"Whip them into shape, Wood," Harry called as Wood disappeared down the stairs.

"I can't wait to try out next year," Ron said as he gripped the air in front of him. The redhead jumped off the chair and ran around the common room like he was on a broom, commentating a narrative only he could see.

Harry watched with amusement as other Gryffindors watched and yelled support and criticism of Ron's imaginary Quidditch game. Hermione appeared in the portrait hole and shoved Harry out of his seat by the fire. "Move, I have the information you want and I'm cold," she announced with her nose in the air.

"Oh?" Harry asked as he got comfortable on the floor. He cast a Softening Charm on the carpet and side of the chair to mold to his body's shape. Any excuse to use magic made him happy. He couldn't remember what information he'd asked Hermione about

"I wrote to Flourish and Blots about a book about beginner and simple steps to learn Healing Magic. They sent back this book," she thrust a book at Harry, sounding smug. Harry hadn't thought about using a book that wasn't in the library. It made him flush as he took the book. _A Simple Guide to Household Injuries And Mal__a__dies For A Prospective Bride-to-Be_ by Philippa Lyttleburye was on the cover of a pink book. He winced as he opened the book. It'd been published in the early seventeen-hundreds.

"Uh, well, the cover could do with a change in color, but thanks Hermione. I'll give it a look over," Harry said with a laugh.

It took him a few times to get the Colour Changing Charm to take on the cover of the book. It ended up being a light red. Ron got into a heated debate with another Gryffindor about who would win the British and Irish Quidditch League at the end of the season. Neville had disappeared for the day with Professor Sprout to take care of one of the sensitive plants in _Greenhouse 1_. Harry settled in to read while everyone had something to do and tried not to let his impatience show. He'd been dying to duel Ron and Neville since it was a Sunday.

The book, while sappy, had a lot of practical information on how to perform basic first aid using magic. Providence had taught him some first aid, but much of it was only available to older cadets. Hermione was not amused when he went to get his carving knife and slit open his left forearm. Harry blocked out the unholy tirade from not only his friend but also another two older Gryffindors and Percy who came in during the lecture. He learned his lesson, never cut yourself around girls.

Neville didn't get back until almost curfew. Harry struggled to not complain. He went to bed early, complaining about a headache, but stayed up reading the book. He used a bit of an old shirt as a rag when he cut his arm again. It unnerved him a little when he looked up to see Ron's rat staring at him with a confused look. "I'm not crazy!" he muttered as he waved his wand over the cut.

"_Sanareta_," he muttered as he traced the cut with the tip of his wand. The narrow cut stopped welling with blood but the skin remained damaged. He took his carving knife and made another cut on his arm. "Maybe I am crazy," he muttered as blood welled up again.

The Slytherins were celebrating in the Great Hall the next morning for breakfast. They laughed and jeered at the Ravenclaws who, for the most part, ignored them. The Potions Master almost looked happy during their class and Malfoy acted as if he were the one that won the Slytherins the match.

A high-pitched wailing came from Harry's bag a few minutes into his Defense Against the Dark Art's class. Professor Quirrell docked points for interrupting the class. His Sneakoscope had gone haywire in his bag. He'd intended to take it to the classroom they used for an extra measure of defense against Malfoy finding them. It hadn't gone off in Potions, so he couldn't figure out why it went off then. Once he got the Seakoscope outside the classroom, it stopped. He ran it up to his room and dumped the defective thing in his trunk.

He won the points back in his next Charms class. Professor Flitwick had the class try to do the Fire-Making Spell. He, Hermione, and Ron all performed the spell correctly the first time. The professor asked Harry and Hermione to stay behind after class.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, how much of the first-year coursebook have you covered by yourselves?" the diminutive professor asked. He looked between the two students with a wide smile.

"A fair bit," Harry answered with reservation. Showing you knew too much to instructors at Providence always landed you with more work. He enjoyed his personal projects too much to want to have more homework.

"The whole course, professor," Hermione admitted with a broad smile. She bounced on the balls of her feet. Harry tried not to groan.

"Excellent! Excellent! If I asked you to cast the Knockback Jinx, both of you would be able to?" Professor Flitwick asked. He beamed and did a little jig atop the pile of books. Harry wondered if they would fall over.

"Yes," both students chorused. Harry with a shrug and Hermione with a strong nod.

"Hummmm," the professor hummed before looking between them. "What about bewitching objects? Could you say, make a desk dance across the room?"

Harry frowned as he mulled over the question. Hermione took some time as well before she answered. "Maybe?" Hermione admitted after a full minute. She looked crestfallen at her own admission.

"Harry?" Professor Flitwick probed.

Harry hedged on the side of caution as he glanced at his friend beside him. "Maybe, professor," he answered with a shrug.

"No matter," Professor Flitwick said with a small grin. "When you figure it out, show me. I'll reward you both for your hard work."

Harry and Hermione left the classroom after being dismissed. "What was that about?" Harry asked as they went back toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

"I'm not sure but I want to give it a shot!" his friend declared. She clenched the strap of her bag.

"It's okay not to know every answer, Hermione," Harry consoled as he looked his friend over.

"I feel so bad. Professor Flitwick was obviously excited and wanted us to say yes!"

"I think," Harry muttered as he gathered his thoughts. "That we are farther ahead than either of us realize. Professor Flitwick didn't even ask us to demonstrate the Knockback Jinx. Granted, he may know what has been going on between Malfoy and I."

"I don't think anyone in the school doesn't know about your foolish war. Honestly, boys," Hermione tutted. "I'll start reading up on bewitching objects."

Harry mulled over the Charms Professor's question through the night and into the next day. Potions distracted him as he needed to focus on the review topic on the uses of dragon's blood. However, in History of Magic, he spent the entire class coming up with different ways to charm a desk to dance across the room. Hermione shot him pointed looks that he ignored through the entire lesson.

Harry knew she was right to be angry with him. His History of Magic marks were just above a Poor on most assignments. "Harry will you take History of Magic seriously!" Hermione chastised as they sat for lunch. Ron defended him by saying it was the best class for catching an hour of sleep. His answer didn't impress the bushy-haired girl.

"If both of you get held back because you can't get your goblin rebellions right, then I'll laugh," Hermione stated with a huff. Her nose pointed in the air, she dug into the plate in front of her.

The thought of being held back sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

**XXXXX**

"Bloody hell!" Harry gasped as he rolled out of the way of the second spell. The greenish-black spell hissed and fizzled as it hit the flagstones near him. He cast a smokescreen and crouch-jumped to his feet to dodge the spell he knew would hit him if he stayed still. Malfoy had become adept at finding Harry despite the Smokescreen Spells. Harry wondered how the boy got so much better and cursed as another spell passed inches from his chest. He ducked and flattened himself between two portraits.

A dark colored spell appeared out of the smoke, flying toward him. The spell sizzled and crackled when it hit the edge of a portrait frame. The wood turned black and sizzled. Harry was not having fun anymore. He turned to run away when another spell flew at him from the direction he intended to run. The Knockback Jinx hit his shoulder, causing him to slam into the wall. With a grunt, he charged whoever was casting the Knockback Jinx. Anything was better than spells that caused magic portraits to burn and crackle. He'd noticed from previous skirmishes that many of the portraits had innate magical defenses. Most of the time spells would do no harm or veer off if they came close to any portrait.

"Potter!" Malfoy cursed as he waved his wand again, intending to cast.

"_Flipendo_!" Harry cried as he leveled his wand at his attacker. The spell caught the blonde boy under the chin and sent him sprawling across the corridor. Another dark colored spell flew over Harry's head and slammed into the wall. He ran to the closest secret passage and threw himself inside. A quick Locking Charm sealed the fake wall behind him.

He thought his only enemy was Malfoy, his two cronies, and sometimes a Slytherin or two looking for some fun. The memory of those powerful spells melting stone made him shiver. He wasn't sure what made him jump out of the way of the first spell. Harry never saw whoever had sent the spell, but his body screamed for him to move, so he trusted it.

"You okay, Harry?" Neville asked as Harry plopped himself in a chair beside his friend.

"Not really, got attacked again," he answered as he clenched his shaking fist.

"Malfoy again?" the round-faced boy asked as he pushed a bottle at Harry. The boys had stocked the classroom with bottles of pumpkin juice from the kitchen. The house-elves enchanted the glass bottles to remain cold for a few days.

"Thought it was at first. It had to be an older student though. The spells or curses they used melted the stone in front of me," Harry answered with a shiver. "This isn't fun anymore."

"It was never, fun, as you call it. Even I know fighting three on one is a bad idea. I'm the slowest of all four of us and I know that," Neville said with a laugh.

"Neville, if you are slow, then I'm a blithering idiot. You're a lot smarter than you realize. Not just in Herbology."

"Thanks, Harry. What are you going to do?" Neville asked as he took a sip from his own bottle.

"Keep my head down and focus on History of Magic. Hermione is starting to scare me with her insistence on getting good grades. I enjoy learning and getting good marks, but she takes it to a whole different level."

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Quidditch match started at ten on Saturday. Harry stayed out of everyone's way and either used the secret passages to get around or walked with other Gryffindors. The Slytherins had decided to back the Hufflepuff team by jinxing and cursing the Gryffindor players. This backfired when both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students attacked the Slytherins back. The three would-be attackers found themselves in the Hospital Wing for the day.

Hermione became obsessed with learning how to bewitch objects to make Professor Flitwick proud. Harry debated telling his friend he'd figured out how to bewitch the desk to dance. He kept quiet and cheered his friend on as she tried to figure it out on her own. She brought up questions he'd never thought of as she struggled to perform the task. They debated the hows and whys of bewitching spells as Harry played wizard chess with Ron, much to the redhead's displeasure.

Harry got out of bed on Saturday and sat in the common room with Wood. The older student was bent over a pile of papers the size of a coursebook. He flipped through pages and muttered to himself as Harry watched. The Quidditch Captain would mutter different possible plays and how to counter them. Harry watched, a little awed, by how dedicated Wood was to his team's success. He wondered if any of the other players knew how much time their captain spent trying to set them up for success.

Fred and George were in a surly mood when Lee pulled them out of bed. Wood was livid when he learned his two Beaters stayed up late trying to experiment on a Nose-Biting Teacup. The Chasers made themselves scarce as Wood yelled his displeasure.

"Today's game will be Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Madam Hooch has entered the pitch to start the game. Here come out the Gryffindors! Wood has been drilling his team hard to fight against the Hufflepuff Chaser's teamwork. Campbell leads his team out onto the field as well. Hufflepuff has shown off their skill in the last game with Ravenclaw," Lee announced as the teams took their places.

"Madam Hooch has released the Quaffle and it is snagged by Lee, nice name that. Lee takes it up the pitch as Johnson and Spinnet move to block..."

Harry watched with the rest of the Gryffindors as their team fought for possession of the Quaffle. It was a different kind of physical game than the one with the Slytherins. Where the Slytherin Chasers focused on physically body blocking their opponents, the Hufflepuffs focused on coordinated attacks. Fred and George seemed to be taking their frustration out on the Bludger as they sent it flying into the path of Sutton. The Hufflepuff Chaser had to veer away to dodge the speeding ball. Angelina got under him and swiped the Quaffle as he tried to get back on course.

"First goal to Gryffindor!" Lee cheered. "Well done, Alicia! Those stretches are doing more than just helping you swipe the Quaffle," he said before being cut off by Professor McGonagall.

"JORDAN!" she warned. Lee replied he was sorry and continued his commentary.

It was a low-scoring game as both sides fought hard to maintain the Quaffle and the Keepers worked hard to protect their goals. The Gryffindors prayed that Ward would come through for them again.

"Lee passes to Sutton. Sutton pushes off Johnson and Passes to Robertson. Robertson loops it back to Lee. Fred, or George, disrupt the Hawkshead Formation with a well placed Bludger. Bell snatches the Quaffle and Twirls around Sutton. Robertson Checks Spinnet and gets the Quaffle..." Lee Jordan commentated.

Professor McGonagall had to threaten detention a few times due to his colorful commentary when Sutton and Lee fouled Katie Bell. She'd been about to score when they Cobbed the Quaffle out of her arm. The excessive use of elbows won Bell a shot at scoring, but the Keeper, Campbell, blocked the shot. The Gryffindors moaned their disappointment in unison.

"Harry, where is the Snitch?" Ron asked as he looked around the stadium.

"Oh, now you believe me?" Harry muttered with a smile. "I saw it a little while ago near the commentator's box. At least, I think it was the Snitch. It could have been Lee's new watch."

The game progressed a little while longer before someone saw the Snitch.. Hart dove from high above the stadium, aiming for the Gryffindor side of the pitch. Ward dove after the other Seeker a moment later. The Hufflepuff Seeker held the advantage in the race for the Snitch and maintained it. He pulled out of the dive first and banked hard away from the stands. Ward tried to turn and pull out of his dive at the same time.

"He doesn't even know where the Snitch is," Ron cried as he jumped out of his chair. "Ward doesn't even understand Hart's playing with him."

"No, Hart's seen the Snitch but is trying to throw Ward off. The Snitch is over by the Hufflepuff goalposts. Look near the ground," Harry countered with a sigh. Hart cut back the way he came and blew past Ward. The Gryffindor Seeker looked confused.

Hufflepuff won the game by one-hundred and ten points. Wood congratulated his team for trying their best before attempting to drown himself in the showers. Fred and George refused to speak to Ward. The three Chasers grabbed some Butterbeer Fred and George had provided before disappearing into the girls dormitories. The Gryffindors were sullen as the day grew longer.

"Maybe we should lose more," Harry said as he dodged another spell from Ron. His friend had been in a foul temper because of Gryffindor's loss.

"SHUT UP, YOU!" Ron bellowed and cast another spell at him.

Harry dodged the spell with a grin. His grin slipped as he heard a desk behind him crack as the spell hit it. "That's the spirit!" he said and cast his own attack.

The Tickling Charm hit Ron causing the redheaded boy to double over laughing. Once Hermione cast the counter-spell, Ron jumped up cursing Harry. "DO NOT MAKE ME LAUGH," Ron yelled. He sent spell after spell at Harry.

"Uh, Ron, take a deep breath?" Neville probed as he watched the duel.

The magical onslaught had pressed Harry and forced him to go on the defensive. "Ugh," he cried out as a spell slammed into his thigh. He went down when the next spell hit him in the stomach, flipping him backward into the cushioned wall. "Nice, Ron," he gasped as he got to his feet. He tried not to show his surprise at his friend's performance.

"That was pretty good," Ron said and grinned as he stood a little taller.

"I get to cast spells back now?" Harry asked with a wider grin.

"No, let me have this," his friend shot back as he closed his eyes. Neville laughed while Hermione tutted.

"Boys," she muttered into her book.

Harry pranked Hermione the next day after another lecture about his History of Magic marks. He'd turned in a poor scoring essay because he'd been too busy with his Potions homework to bother. His new focus in the class was to brew a perfect Wiggenweld Potion. While the potion itself wasn't difficult to brew, the steps involved were many.

After dinner, the four friends sat down in the study classroom and broke out bottles of chilled pumpkin juice to soothe their tired brains. Hermione had left to get a book from her dormitory when Harry decided to bewitch her drink. He sat by his cauldron reading through his Potions coursebook when she came back in.

"You see, bewitching an object is how we…" Hermione started to explain to Ron but stopped part of the way through. She'd taken a drink of her pumpkin juice to water her throat after a long explanation on how hard it'd been to put bewitching items into practice. She burst into giggles and frowned. Her giggles got louder as she doubled over in her chair.

Harry burst out laughing. Hermione glared at him and then looked at her drink. Her look turned murderous. "You… did… to my… drink..." she spat out between her giggles.

"_Finite __Incantatem_," Harry said as he cast the counter-curse on her. "Couldn't help it," he muttered between his laughs. A moment later, he gasped as Hermione aimed her wand at him. He had realized in a heartbeat his friend was about to curse him. Rolling out of the way, he dodged her first spell.

"YOU LIKE GETTING HIT WITH SPELLS DO YOU?" Hermione screamed as she cast hex after hex at him.

Harry yelped and ran as more spells flew around him. Hermione worked herself up into a rage as she did her best to curse Harry into a puddle. "Just a joke," he gasped as a spell broke against his transfigured shield. The board he'd hid behind had broken in two by the force of the spell.

"Just a joke. So is this!" she yelled and started her barrage of attacks again.

Harry held his cold bottle to his head as he lay on the floor. Hermione had worked her anger out on him. He knew he deserved it but tried not to show his pleasure. Sweat soaked through his robes from the physical exertion of running and using magic to defend himself. Hermione was a talented and brilliant witch. Her methods of attacks had varied to counter all of his attempts at defense.

"This git enjoyed that," Ron muttered with a horrified expression on his face.

Neville laughed but stopped when he saw Hermione's face. "Did you have… fun… Harry?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

"No!" Harry blurted out.

"Good, now finish your History of Magic essay," she ordered and sat down in her chair. She took an untouched bottle out of the little trunk they had in the middle of the room and drank. Harry tried to ignore the satisfied smirk on her face.

**XXXXX**

Hermione forgave him later in the week after their Charms class. Professor Flitwick had fallen off his platform of books when he saw Hermione make one of the desks dance across the room. He praised Harry for making his desk dance across the room to a slow waltz. The legs of the desk acted as two dance partners. Harry figured it would be the only time he'd ever use one of the stupid dances they forced him to learn at Providence. Their reward was an official invitation to the Charms Club. Students had to pass an unspecified requirement before the professor would offer an invitation. Both Harry and Hermione accepted. The club met on Wednesday after dinner for an hour.

"HOW did you make your desk dance like that?" Hermione questioned as she cornered him in the common room after dinner.

"What do you mean? I made the desk dance, like Professor Flitwick asked," Harry answered with a benign smile.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him as she stalked closer, getting almost in his face. "How?" she growled as she locked eyes with him.

"Yeesh," Harry muttered and backed away from the intense girl. He knew she hated not knowing something. It'd been luck and a little experimentation before he found out how to do it. "Do you know how to dance?" he asked.

"Uh, no?" Hermione answered with a bewildered look. "What does dancing have to do with… oohhh," she breathed as her eyes lit up.

"Figured it out did you?" Harry asked with a grin.

"You actually know how to dance the waltz? You charmed the legs as two separate spells to work to the same beat. That's ingenious, Harry!" she praised as she looked around the room. She flicked her wand at a footstool in the corner. The footstool sprung to life and shuffled back and forth to a slow beat.

Harry groaned as he watched. "It took me almost a week to figure out how to do it. You get a hint and bamn, you recreate my work in seconds," he griped. He wasn't angry but was a little envious of his friend's intelligence.

"Hush, it didn't do quite what I wanted. Still," she muttered as she narrowed her eyes at the stool.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione visited Hagrid toward the end of the week. Neville got to stay longer in _Greenhouse 2_ with Professor Sprout. He'd been so excited to go, he forgot to go to dinner and rushed to the greenhouse an hour earlier then scheduled.

"Uh, Hagrid, why is it sweltering in here? Cooking more Cauldron Cakes?" Harry asked as they took a seat at his massive table.

"No, just cold," the giant answered with a frown.

Ron scoffed and Hermione frowned. "All right," Harry answered with a smile. "Oh yeah, I wanted to say thank you for the flute! I'm not very good at using it."

"Yer welcome, Harry. Made it me self. Never been great with a knife but glad yer like it," Hagrid answered with a grin. "I loved yher cane, a little tall for me, but thank yeh." the giant said with a smile. He ambled over to the cauldron and stirred with a broad grin.

"Hagrid," Hermione started as she looked around the room. "Are you okay? It smells a little in here and I'm not talking about Fang's droppings in the corner. What is that?" she breathed in as her eyes fell on a twisted bit of scrap bent together.

"Er, nothin'," Hagrid answered in a weak voice. "I'm fine, Hermione," he finished just before his stomach betrayed him. A rumbling echo seemed to vibrate the hut as the giant's stomach growled.

"Wicked," Ron muttered in a muffled voice. He pinched his nose with one hand and waved the air in front of his face with the other.

"Hagrid, we're your friends. What's going on?" Harry said with a smile.

With a tender look spreading across his face, Hagrid grinned. "Dragon Egg," he announced with a broad grin, "always wanted one." Hermione and Ron gasped.

"That's why you were in the library the other day looking up information on Dragons!" Harry cried with a smile. "Wicked!"

"Not wicked, this time, Harry. The Warlock's Convention of 1709 outlawed dragon breeding, everyone knows that. You can't stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden. Anyway, you can't tame dragons, they are dangerous! You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania," Ron breathed as he peered as far over his stool as he could to look in the cauldron by the fire.

"Always wanted a dragon," Hagrid explained with a larger smile. "Won an egg off a chappy in the pub. We got to talkin' bout my job. He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after, so I tolds him. Some er the most ferocious magical beasts be easy to smooth. Look at my Fluffy, play em a bit of music and he's o' to sleep. We gambled a bit, n' I told him I'd love a dragon egg, always wanted one. He said he had one he'd picked up from a chap in Russia. Offered to play me fer it."

"And he just gave you the egg?" Harry questioned, listening to the story with wide eyes.

"Naw, had to prove I knew my stuff 'bout magical creatures, didn't I. He asked me questions n' I answered them right. A three-headed dog is moar dangerous than a dragon. Fluffy was a right terror growin' up," Hagrid mused with a small smile. The students shivered at the thought of a three-headed dog being somehow less dangerous than a dragon.

"I won my baby here n' now he's 'bout to hatch. Can't leave me hut for long. Going to be hatching soon, I just know it," the giant finished with a soft smile.

"Uh, can we help?" Harry asked and got elbowed in the ribs for his trouble.

"Would yah, Harry? I'd love somethin' from the kitchens. Stomach's been howlin' somethin' fierce."

"We'll help you," Harry said as he blocked another attack of elbows from his friends.

Harry found himself alone as he headed for the kitchen an hour later. Ron wanted to see a dragon hatch, but wasn't keen on going back into the smelly hut. Hermione refused to do anything to support Hagrid's decision to raise a dragon.

The pear giggled as Harry tickled it and pulled on the door handle when it appeared. An army of house-elves worked to wash, dry, and clean the various dishes and utensils from dinner. Their lamp-like eyes turned to him as he entered. He stood rooted to the spot for a moment before the house-elves went back to work. The closest house-elf stopped scrubbing a goblet and waddled over to Harry.

"Helping you, young master?" a wide-eyed house-elf inquired as they bowed low.

"Uh, could I get a bunch of food for Hagrid?" he questioned as he became aware of a problem. He couldn't get a lot of food to Hagrid on his own. It might take a few trips and the curfew was fast approaching.

"No problem, young master. Can Kimmy do anything else for the young master?" the house-elf answered with a beaming smile.

"Is there a way to get the food sent down to Hagrid?" he questioned and scratched the back of his head. Two house-elves looked up from their tasks and waddled over to Kimmy and Harry.

"We would be delighted to help the young master," they intoned at the same time. They bowed to him, their tea towel uniforms touching the floor.

"Uh, great, thanks" Harry said with a small laugh. The house-elves made him uncomfortable with their large, lamp-like eyes and their subservient attitude.

"Our pleasure, young master," the three house-elves intoned with another bow.

They convinced Harry to take some sweets with him to bed before he could escape. As he made his way up the stairs to the Entrance Hall, he heard a familiar voice.

"My father told me the school governors are looking to get rid of that old fool," Malfoy boasted.

Harry ducked back down the stairs in the hopes the Slytherin boy hadn't seen him.

"Look boys, I thought I saw a lost Gryffindor down those stairs," Malfoy called to someone.

The sound of laughter grew closer as Harry made it to the bottom of the stairs. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to hide it out in the kitchen. He pulled the door closed behind him as the smiling face of Malfoy appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Welcome back, young master," a voice called from beside him. "We've sent Master Hagrid food like you requested. Did you need anything else?"

"Yes, a way out!" Harry questioned as he thought he heard laughing on the other side of the door.

"Why, the way you came, young master," a different house-elf replied.

"No other ways out?" Harry probed as he fished out his wand, aiming it toward the door. The door handle had disappeared when he closed it but was reappearing before his eyes. Someone with Malfoy knew how to get into the kitchens.

"Yes, but only with the permission of the Headmaster," the closest house-elf answered.

"Ah, well, nothing else for it then. They may attack me when the door opens. Please get to safety," Harry instructed as he pulled a wet cutting board from a metal rack near one of the many sinks.

"Knock, knock, here we come," a malicious voice called out as the door swung open.

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and two other Slytherin first-years stuck their faces in the kitchen. It took a moment for Harry to recognize Daphne Greengrass and Zoe Stewart. Zoe was a snarky student who took pleasure in bullying Neville. Daphne kept to herself in every class. She would rarely offer information and watched everyone with narrowed eyes.

"Here, Potter, Potter, Potter," Malfoy drawled as he strode into the room.

Harry had ducked behind a large stack of plates on the end of one of the tables. He noted with some surprise that the table looked like the one the Hufflepuffs used in the Great Hall. There were engravings of a badger scattered around the table at random spots.

"There you are," Malfoy called as he drew his wand. He'd entered the kitchen and started to look around as Harry inspected the table. "Doing a bit of cleaning before bed? How Muggle of you," the blonde boy drawled as he drew closer. "Flipendo!" he cried as a blue spell shot from his wand.

Harry moved out of the way as the spell hit the plates. The plates crashed against the long table behind him. "Flipendo!" Harry cried in retaliation as he pointed his wand at his attacker.

Malfoy took the spell in the chest. He flew backward and crashed to the floor, sliding halfway under another of the long tables. Harry sent green sparks at his prone form, hoping to keep the Slytherin busy. Crabbe and Goyle shot spells at Harry, both of which missed. Pots and pans clattered to the floor and across the tabletops as a spell hit a holding rack on the wall.

"Fumos," Harry cried as he pointed toward the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle jumped out of the way and Zoe whipped out her own wand. Harry saw Daphne scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes before the smokescreen obscured his vision. He ducked low and ran along the end of the table toward the back of the kitchen. Two bright jets of light flew over the spot he'd run from a moment later. He felt the table shift a little as something hit the tabletop. At the end of the table, he crouched low and used the cutting board in his hand as a small shield. He aimed his wand toward the door and waited for a spell to give away someone's position.

"Diffindo!" someone cried, causing Harry to wince. It seemed the Slytherins didn't mind using dangerous spells in a room full of innocent house-elves.

He aimed his wand where he saw the flash of light and used a Tickling Charm. The charm hit because a moment later he heard a high-pitched giggle. He used another Smokescreen Spell before doubling back up the table to where he'd been before. The sound of crunching plates gave him away as two spells flew over his head. He grimaced and fired from under the table in the general direction of the door.

"STOP THIS AT ONCE!" a booming voice ordered. "Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Greengrass, Stewart, all of you step outside the kitchens. Potter come and join them in the hall."

Harry watched as the smokescreen dissipated and saw a handsome witch standing in the doorway. He knew her from the High Table in the Great Hall but had never met Professor Babbling in person.

Malfoy sneered at him as he joined the other Slytherins in the hall outside the kitchens. The professor closed the door behind her and turned to the students. "I am deeply disappointed in all of you. It is quite obvious what happened here. A group of four students attacking a single student. This does not absolve your guilt, Potter. You cast spells in defense of yourself but you also cast them to attack another student. All of you will receive detentions and lose twenty house points, each. Yes, Greengrass, you as well. While you did not participate, you were with those who did. You didn't stand with your House mates or attempt to dissuade them."

"Are the house-elves safe?" Harry asked, hoping none of the stray spells hit any of them. The image of a Severing Charm hitting one of the poor creatures made him shudder.

"House-elf lover," snorted Malfoy.

"All of the house-elves are quite safe. They will however have all of your help in the coming week in cleaning up. All of you will be serving a week's detention in the kitchens to pay for your actions."


	10. Chapter 10: A Baby Dragon

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__._

**Chapter 10: A Baby Dragon**

"You got what?" Ron and Neville asked as Harry plopped down in the common room chair.

Harry felt the only silver lining to his night was all the Slytherins got detention with him. He was under no illusions that if Snape was the one to catch the fight, Harry would have had more points taken and been the only one to get detention. "Got detention for the week. Kitchen duty, which probably won't be too bad. Starts right after dinner and ends before curfew." He sighed, knowing Hermione would lecture him when she found out.

"What happened?!" both boys cried as they put their homework down. It amused Harry to see the speed at which both gave up on their homework. He wondered if it was a History of Magic essay as his had almost driven him to tears with how boring it was.

He explained his entire adventure in the kitchens. As he told the story, he told them things he should have done better or would have done differently if he'd been thinking. Neville grimaced when he heard Zoe's name. Hermione arrived halfway through his explanation and had to retell some of it over again. It horrified her that he'd lost House points and gotten detention, but couldn't fault him for the series of events.

"I'm glad no house-elves got hurt. They just want to help," Harry muttered as he gazed into the fire. The quick fight played over and over in his mind. "I need to learn to use more incapacitation spells. If I had been smarter, I would have hit Malfoy with a Full Body-Bind Curse at the start. He was wide open and not expecting me to attack back."

"Harry, don't go looking for trouble! I know there was nothing better you could have done, but that doesn't mean you can go looking for more trouble," Hermione chastised. "If you keep this up, you could be expelled!"

"I didn't go looking for trouble in the first place," Harry shot back with a frown. A kernel of fear blazed in his stomach as he contemplated Professor Dumbledore expelling him. He'd read enough to realize his wand would be broken and he would forever be an outcast from the wizarding world, hero or not. The conversation lapsed into silence. With some amusement, he noticed that neither Ron nor Neville tried to go back to their homework.

The next evening, Harry arrived first in the kitchens and got put to work by a grumpy old house-elf by the name of Grand. The stooped house-elf pointed to a stack of plates as high as Harry and tossed him a cleaning rag. "I'm glad our spells didn't hurt any of the house-elves. Sorry about what happened yesterday," he said as he started to scrub the plates into a bin. He put the plates to one side and continued the process.

Grand grunted and waved his small hand around the kitchen. "We work for you wizards, keep your arguments away from my help." Harry nodded and continued to work. He'd learned that sorry was just a word, action spoke your true feelings.

Malfoy swaggered into the kitchen and sneered at the house-elves. "Filthy slaves," he muttered and narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Already where you belong, Potter. Your Mudblood mother would be proud of you, cleaning like a Muggle."

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored the blonde boy. This seemed to infuriate Malfoy. Grand interrupted Malfoy when he started to open his mouth again. "You, Ponce, scrub brush and cleaner. Fat Boy One and Fat Boy Two, use the rag by the sink to wipe the dishes clean. You, Squint, help Messy Hair wipe off the plates. Pout, you'll be with Ponce. Move it or you'll do your own laundry for the rest of your days at Hogwarts."

Harry winced at the aged house-elf's threat. He wouldn't want to do his laundry, especially after Herbology. The Slytherins all jumped to their assigned tasks. Daphne stared at the plates of half-eaten food with a blank expression. She looked from Harry's rag to the plates and then the bin he was wiping everything into. With a shudder, she picked up a rag and started with her task.

It was hard for Harry to say he didn't enjoy himself. The uncomfortable nostalgic feeling of being back at the Dursleys didn't attribute to his good time. Nor was it the irritable house-elf as he berated everyone, including the other house-elves. The look on the Slytherins faces and their expressions were priceless. Malfoy in particular had a dazed and confused look on his face as he washed a plate. Crabbe and Goyle took turns drying the same plate multiple times before they figured out it was dry. Zoe's scrunched-up face and a look of revulsion every time her hands touched the cleaning liquid almost made Harry burst out laughing. His sides were hurting from trying not to laugh.

"You would be enjoying this," Daphne accused. The blonde, almost white, haired girl glared at him. "Deserving of a Blood-traitor family," she muttered.

"Yup, I'm enjoying this," Harry admitted with a grin. "Watching your Holier-Than-Tho-Art Pure-blood families work like common people is too good a picture to pass up. I wish I had a camera so I could show the school the look on your faces as you do menial labor. Bet Malfoy in particular has never touched a scrub brush except to primp in the mirror. So, yeah, I'm having fun. Almost as much fun as cursing the lot of you last night."

Daphne narrowed her eyes and pushed food off the plate into the bin with a grunt. The food slapped the edge of the bin with a loud thump. "You wouldn't last a second if WE were to duel," she challenged with a sneer.

"Probably not," Harry admitted. "I have little experience with real dueling. As a Pure-blood, I'm sure you've had tutors and the like. What I know is what Malfoy's ambushes have taught me. Move, fight, survive."

Daphne paused then nodded. "At least you realize your failures," she muttered. "You do have a reputation of being elusive when you want to be."

Harry snorted and continued on his pile of plates. "Why do you hate Potions so much?" he questioned, causing the girl next to him to jump a little.

"Uh, what?" she asked as she wiped her plate faster.

"You hate Potions. It's obvious. Just wonder if it's Snape or some other reason," Harry mused.

"None of your business, Blood-traitor!" Daphne answered with a sneer.

Harry shrugged and went back to watching the other Slytherins flounder at their tasks. Crabbe got his rag wet but kept trying to dry the plate in his hand. "No one can be that dumb," he muttered as he watched Goyle try and help his partner.

"They are," Daphne answered with a giggle that turned into a cough.

"What do you want to do when you graduate from Hogwarts?" Harry asked his partner. The question had sprung into his mind as he watched the other Slytherins struggle and wondered what jobs in the Muggle world they would be qualified to do.

Daphne paused her cleaning and eyed him. "Why?" she asked with a frown.

"Just wondering really. The vast majority of the Slytherin House have it made with their family connections. It is what sets Slytherin apart from the other Houses. For all your Pure-blood mania," he ignored her snort, "you keep to old traditions and are more like British nobles from history. While every word is a knife in the dark, you still strive to better yourself and your families."

The girl paused again and looked Harry over. "You are surprisingly smart for a Gryffindor. I don't know what I want to do after I graduate."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I wanted to be a Hufflepuff but the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor," Harry admitted. The look of shock on Daphne's face made him laugh. "Why Hufflepuff? The question is written all over your face. That they have the least number of character flaws is a plus. I have plenty of flaws but I'm not is a quitter. I like most everyone, except Ponce over there. Great name for him. I work hard and like to try new things. Classic Hufflepuff. Slytherins are elitists and so are Ravenclaws. They are both recluses in their own ways while Gryffindors blunder ahead. Charging head first into problems fixes them sometimes; other times it causes more problems."

"Humm," the Slytherin responded and went back to her work.

The hour and a half past quickly for Harry. He placed the last plate by Malfoy and left the kitchen with Grand's permission. He'd enjoyed talking to Daphne despite the girl's attitude. The next morning he got up early. He dressed into his Providence exercise outfit and went to the study classroom. After transfiguring the desks into an obstacle course, he ran, jumped, dove, and rolled around for thirty minutes. He went to the showers and went back to the dormitory to finish the homework he hadn't completed the night before.

The teachers seemed to be of the same mind about exams. The exams were months away, yet every professor spoke of them as if they were sitting the exams the next week. By using the flashcards on a regular basis, all the review questions were relatively easy.

"Hermione, is it just me, or do the professors not really care if their students get high marks?" Harry asked at the end of the week. For all their talk about the exams, the professors didn't scold, lecture, or threaten any of their students during reviews.

"They care, Harry. It's just," Hermione broke off and scrunched up her nose. "I know they care. It is a little weird that other than Professor McGonagall, none of the professors give detentions for poor marks. Maybe they are just warning students now and will do more as it gets closer to exams."

Harry shrugged and went back to his homework. At Providence, for all their questionable practices, they pushed their students to be the best they could. He knew a lot of that reason was because of the funding they received for high marks and officer candidate graduates. "Oh yeah, want to come with me to Hagrid's tomorrow? From his letter this morning, I think the, uh... thing... should be arriving," Harry asked as he pitched his voice lower.

"I don't know, Harry. I think it's still a bad idea," she whispered back.

"Oh, I agree, but it will be an experience few people get," he tempted. Harry grinned wider as a complicated look appeared on his friend's face. Hermione huffed but didn't answer.

"Harry, could we have a moment of your time?" a voice called from the other side of the common room.

Harry grinned and got up. "Yup," he said as he walked over to the twins. They talked in hushed voices over a long bit of parchment.

"We've gone over what you suggested a while back. How to make our own fireworks," one twin said just above a whisper.

"Fred here, had the idea to use a Containment Charm to seal in a bunch of charms or a large modified charm," George said with a small grin.

"From what we read in the library, don't give me that look, Harry," Fred grumbled and flashed a grin. "We found the Containment Charm, but it was used to hold entities. We've been messing around with the spell. What do you think?"

Harry looked at the parchment and frowned. "This looks complicated," he muttered and tapped part of the parchment. "I don't know enough about this to be of any use, sorry mates."

"Make a copy of it and look it over. You and Hermione are the brightest of your year. We can't go to Hermione for obvious reasons. Bill writes to us every once in a while with tips, but we really need someone's fresh eyes. We've stared at this for weeks." George whispered. He took out his wand and tapped the parchment. Taking out another parchment, he tapped his wand on the blank page. Words in black ink wrote themselves on the page.

"Wicked," Harry muttered and eyed George. "What's the spell. That would make doing homework so much easier."

"Find out yourself," Fred answered with a grin. "There are a ton of spells in the library that aren't taught here if you know where to look."

Harry thought for a moment. "Restricted Section?" he questioned.

"While we've perused a few of the books there, no not the Restricted Section. I'm sure there are some spells there that would be amazing though. Coursebooks are great an all, but there is so much more out there, Harry. I'm surprised you haven't looked harder," George said with a smirk.

"We've seen you in your little classroom practicing. Those flashcards are genius, but you need to push yourself," Fred said.

"Stop wasting your youth," George continued with a grin.

"I can't believe I'm getting scolded for not learning fast enough by the school jokesters," Harry bemoaned and wiped a fake tear from his eye.

"Laugh all you want," Fred said with a chuckle and pointed to the completed parchment.

"We're taking our schooling seriously," George finished with a straight face.

Harry had to admit they were right as he looked at the parchment in front of him. He couldn't understand all of it but got a general idea of how much work they'd put into modifying an existing charm.

**XXXXX**

"Uh, Hagrid, has it occurred to you that you're attempting to raise a dragon in a wooden house?" Harry asked for the third time as they stared into the cauldron by the fire. The large blackened egg sat at the bottom on a bed of large stones.

"Yer worrying too much, Harry," Hagrid said with a grin. "Dragons don't breathe fire until their teens. The book said so." Hermione pursed her lips and watched the cauldron in response. Ron and Neville stared wide eyed at the egg.

It took three hours for anything to happen. Ron and Neville had started a game of exploding snap while Harry talked to Hagrid about magical beasts in the Forbidden Forest. Hermione put her book down to listen eagerly to the gamekeeper's words.

The sound of a crack sounded loud in the lapse in conversation about a missing unicorn. Hagrid pushed back his chair, knocking Ron to the floor as a card exploded on the pile. He slid his hands into huge pink oven mitts and scooped the egg out of the cauldron. Smoke billowed off the blackened egg and a large, spidery fracture decorated the side. He set the egg down on the table and moved the boys out of the way.

Everyone watched with bated breath as more cracks appeared on the egg. A scaly nose popped out of one of the cracks after a piece of egg broke off. The green nose disappeared back into the egg. A moment later, the dragon's head broke through the egg. It paused for a moment as one eye surveyed the world around it. With a cry from the dragon, the egg burst to reveal a slender body and long wings covered in a sticky membrane.

"Awww," Hagrid groaned as he put his face closer. "In't he a beaute?" he muttered in a thick voice. "Look at his markings."

"Wow," the students gasped in unison. They stared wide-eyed at the birth of a dragon.

"Wicked," Ron breathed, causing Neville and Harry to nod in agreement.

The dragon turned to Hagrid and blinked its eyes. It shook out its body, throwing bits of little membrane everywhere. It puffed itself up and let out a loud shriek that made everyone wince. Hagrid beamed down at it. "Aww, those eyes," Hagrid gushed as he moved to touch the dragon.

The dragon watched Hagrid and nipped at his finger when it got close. It's sharp teeth drew blood. Harry could see blood pooling around the wound. The dragon shook itself again and coughed. A bright ball of hot flame shot from its mouth and hit Hagrid in the face. His beard caught fire.

Hagrid doused his beard and went back to playing with the dragon. "Uh, he seems vicious," Harry muttered as he watched the tiny dragon and Hagrid's giant hands "play". The gentle giant had nicks, cuts, and bites all over his hands as he played with his baby dragon.

"Aww look, he knows his mummy! Norbert! Norbert! Where's mummy?" Hagrid crooned and rubbed the dragon's side with his index finger.

"He thinks you're food," Ron muttered. "Charlie is braver than I thought," he continued in a lower whisper to Neville and Hermione.

Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione left after Norbert set the table alight. "So, anyone else going to say, I told you so?" Harry asked, laughing as he took the group back up the path to the castle.

"He lives in a wooden hut and wants to raise a dragon," Hermione answered with a shake of her head. "He is… dedicated."

"He's lost his marbles, you mean," Ron interjected, causing everyone to laugh.

"What are we going to do," Neville asked as they reached the front doors.

"I'm writing to Charlie tonight. That thing is an accident waiting to happen," Ron said and frowned. He let out a weak chuckle. "This is going to be tricky, keeping something like that quiet."

"Let me know if you need help," Harry said with a grin. He glanced at all the ways into the Entrance Hall before following his friends up the marble stairs.

Harry and Hermione took to spending their time in the library in the evenings. Harry's friends commented on how engrossed he was with the long bit of parchment. He refused to let anyone see it, stating it wasn't his to share. Ron and Neville let the subject go, but Hermione kept asking what he was working on after she'd seen some of the books Harry had been reading.

It wasn't an easy task to decipher what the twins had been working on. It took him almost a full month of research before he could provide any real comment on their work. His studies suffered a little as he devoted a lot of his time and energy into the twin's project. Hermione wasn't happy but accepted his reasoning that they were ahead of the class by a comfortable margin.

"Harry! Hermione! Charlie wrote me back," Ron announced at breakfast one morning. He was about to open the letter when Hermione covered his hand with her own.

"No, not here," she hissed. Ron paused and nodded at her. He slipped the letter into his robes.

They were safely in their classroom when Ron read the letter to them all.

Dear Ronald,

How are you? Thanks for the letter. I'll be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love,

Charlie

"Hagrid won't be happy but we've got an answer to his problem without setting the dragon loose in the Forbidden Forest," Harry said with a sigh.

"Charlie's come through for me again," said Ron with a grin. "Come on, let's go break the news to Hagrid."

Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback had grown a lot in the last month. At first he fit in Hagrid's hand, with some trouble, but now he was a little smaller than the giant dog, Fang. Fang had taken to sleeping outside after the dragon had taken over his bed by Hagrid's bed. The poor large dog looked forlorn and lost as it lay outside Hagrid's door.

Harry and Ron had visited Hagrid any time they could, which for Harry wasn't a lot. The dragon fascinated Ron, but he was more than a little scared to get close. Harry felt his friend had good reason to fear Norbert. The dragon was vicious to anyone other than Hagrid. Even toward Hagrid the dragon was snappy, irritable, and liked to chew on his boots. Hagrid's bed had a charred look from Norbert's tantrums, as Harry like to call them.

"Hagrid, got a second?" Harry yelled at the closed door.

"Harry? One second?" Hagrid called from somewhere inside. The wall to the house shook as something heavy crashed into it. It sounded like Norbert was getting restless again.

The door cracked and Hagrid stuck his head out. His face looked blackened and singed. One section of his beard had shriveled up into a black mess. "Norbert's having a difficult time today. What can I do for you? Can't let you in," Hagrid said and yelped as something hit him in the back. He turned and yelled, "I said, NO, Norbert. You can't go outside to play!"

Harry and Ron shivered at the idea of letting the dragon outside. Bolstered by the attitude of the dragon, Harry started his speech. "Hagrid, you can't keep Norbert. I know you want to raise him, but you can't keep him here on the school grounds. It's dangerous to you and the students."

"I know," Hagrid said with a small sigh. He roared in pain and turned closing the door behind him. Harry and Ron waited in worry as they heard more banging and Hagrid's pleas for the dragon to calm down.

A little later, Hagrid poked his head back outside his door. "I know, Harry. I just can't dump him in the forest. Those beasts will kill him. He's too young."

"Ron's brother Charlie will take him to somewhere he can live with others of his kind," Harry said as Ron nodded beside him. "We'll have someone arrive on Saturday at midnight to take him somewhere safe."

Hagrid's face fell as he stared into space. "I'll… I'll… get Norbert ready on Saturday," he decided with a choke in his voice. Tears appeared in the giant's eyes as he thanked Harry and Ron before closing the door behind him.

"Norbert is getting worse," Ron muttered as they made their way to the Owlery to send a letter to Charlie.

The next day, all four friends put their heads together to figure out how to get the dragon from Hagrid's hut up to the tallest tower. Ron and Hermione talked about the best route to take while Harry and Neville discussed the issue about how they would get a dragon the size of a dog through the corridors. They all agreed to use the Cloak to get around. It was a unanimous decision for Ron and Harry to perform the task. Ron to talk to Charlie's friends and Harry to use his Cloak. Neville wanted as little to do with the dragon as possible, and Hermione didn't trust herself with such an important task. Harry didn't quite believe her but didn't argue the issue.

The method of transport was a harder topic. Everyone liked the idea of using a kennel or cage to move the dragon. "So, we have, uh, five days to build or transfigure a cage that will transport a dragon, learn the magic needed to move the cage, and walk the route we'll take," Harry complained after they'd come up with a plan. "Seems easy," he groaned and shook his head.

Hermione led the research on transfiguring wood into something hard enough to contain a dragon. They tried several spells from different books with varying degrees of success. One spell turned the piece of wood into an Australian Buloke, one of the hardest mundane woods on the planet. Harry liked the spell and practiced it while Hermione continued the research. Transfiguring wood into iron worked better for their needs, but Harry talked Hermione into letting him use the Australian Buloke wood to create an inner-frame for the wood.

Harry learned the Locomotion Charm by the end of Friday. He wished he'd known the spell sooner, so he could use it to get his trunk to and from the train. Hermione worked hard beside Harry as they learned the charm. She would read from the book, say the incantation, and practice the wand movement before trying each time. Harry struggled to keep his competitive side in check as he watched her blatant attempt to beat him by mastering the spell first. She kept glancing at his progress whenever he attempted the spell.

By Saturday night, they were ready. They stashed the cage in an unused classroom near the Entrance Hall. Neville and Hermione wished them luck in the common room before they disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak. They ran into trouble before they could get out of the castle. Argus Filch had found the cage and was attempting to move it.

"The first-year was right, there was a cage," the aging caretaker murmured for the third time to his cat Mrs. Norris. He was attempting to push the cage across the floor. Harry and Hermione had made it as dense as possible so Norbert couldn't rip the metal bars apart.

"What do we do?" Ron hissed as they peered into the classroom.

"Peeves," Harry whispered back, "nothing will draw Filch like the poltergeist."

They went a few corridors away and cast Severing Charms on a few of the torches on the wall. A small amount of smoke filled the corridor as it went dark. They cast Knockback Jinxes on a few of the suits of armor and ran.

Filch ran past them, cursing under his breath as he went to investigate the noise. Ron and Harry ran to the classroom, knowing the distraction wouldn't last for long. Mrs. Norris sat in the far corner of the classroom when they poked their head back in. Harry decided they couldn't wait and cast the Locomotion Charm on the cage. Mrs. Norris stood up, her lamp-like eyes staring at the door where Harry and Ron were invisible. The cage a few inches off the ground and floated toward the boys.

Harry directed the cage out of the classroom and around the corner. They threw the Cloak over the cage with it between the two of them. It was a tight fit and Harry hoped the cloak would hide their feet. Mrs. Norris appeared at the door and stared at them as they made their way to the Entrance Hall. One Unlocking Charm on the front doors later and they were off to Hagrid and his dragon.

Hagrid was crying and wiping his nose as they put bedding in the cage for Norbert. The dragon was less than excited about being forced into a cage. Just when he thought he was being let out of the house, he got shoved into a cage. "He's got lots o' food an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid said with a small sob. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely." The giant lost it and began sobbing.

"Bye… bye… Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed as he patted the top of the cage. The sound of ripping leather made Harry and Ron shudder. They didn't think the teddy bear was making it through the journey. "Mummy will never forget you!" the giant sobbed into his handkerchief.

The trip up to the tallest tower made both boys sweat. Not because they had to carry the heavy cage, but because of the noise the angry dragon made. The sound of breaking glass roused a few of the portraits and Filch came to investigate moments later. Harry's heart wouldn't stop pounding as they made their way up the narrow staircase. He heard the cage scrape along one wall for a few steps before he could adjust the charm.

The sound of screeching metal made Harry and Ron freeze as they moved along the last corridor. Harry shot a Locking Charm at the door they'd just come through and all but ran with Ron to the tallest tower. The last thing they wanted was for the dragon to get loose in the castle.

"My hand burns," Harry gasped as he switched his wand to his left hand. He looked at his right hand and noticed two puncture marks that were turning red and throbbed. "Oh, no. I think Norbert bit me," he muttered.

They got the door to the tallest tower shut and blocked by transfiguring pieces of wood to shove into the cracks near the hinges. The door would move with enough force but he hoped if Filch came to investigate that it would make enough noise to alert them and not look like it was magically locked it. It took thirty minutes for Charlie's friends to appear. Four figures on broomsticks appeared in the light of the moon before they landed atop the tower. Harry had hidden his Cloak in his robes as they waited. He made sure to show Charlie's friends where the cage was bent from Norbert's attempt at freedom.

After ten minutes of wrapping the cage in ropes so the four of them could transport the dragon, they took off with a cheery wave. Ron waved while Harry clutched his hand. Casper, the leader of the group, had warned him to get his hand looked at first thing the next morning. The sound of wrenching wood scared the two boys. Harry fished out his Cloak and threw it over Ron and himself. They crouched in a corner and waited.

"The door is stuck my sweet," Filch's voice called from the other side of the door. Harry guessed Mrs. Norris had tracked their scent through the castle.

"On the ledge," Harry whispered to Ron as he led them out of the wide window and along the side of the tower.

Ron looked pale as they clung to the steep roof of the tower. "This is such a bad idea," he gasped.

"We could go back in and get detention," Harry said with a shrug. Detentions and losing House points didn't bother him at all.

"No, Hermione would have our heads," the redhead answered and hugged the roof tighter.

"We could jump," Harry offered. Ron cursed and called him mental. "If you believe what Hogwarts: A History writes, then we could jump off the tower and halfway down or so be levitated to the ground," Harry finished with a laugh. His friend shot him a dirty look.

They waited for thirty minutes in the cold before venturing back in the tower. Filch broke the door. It hung from one hinge and splinters were all over the floor. Neither Filch nor his cat were waiting for them. It took them a little longer to get back to the common room and sneak inside. They upset the Fat Lady when Harry spoke the password and woke her up. Neville and Hermione had gone to bed. Harry felt exhausted from the roller coaster of a trip. Ron fell asleep fast but Harry struggled to sleep with his throbbing hand.

The next morning, Harry went to see Madam Pomfrey to get his hand looked at. He claimed he didn't know what bit him but said the punctures looked like the fangs of a snake. She questioned him and he admitted to going to Hagrid's hut after dinner. He claimed the pain started sometime after curfew and tried to wait it out until morning. The matronly woman narrowed her eyes at his story but didn't refuse him treatment.

It took him four days in the Hospital Wing before Madam Pomfrey could heal his hand. It swelled to three times its size and oozed purple and green pus. Hermione had visited him a few times but was more focused on her History of Magic assignment. Neville stopped in as well between his frequent trips to the greenhouses. Ron visited a lot to hide from Hermione and her increasing insistence about him studying for exams. Harry did his homework and studied more about Latin all day while the healer forced him to stay in bed.

"Oh, Harry you should have been there," Hermione gushed as she took a seat by his bed. "Charms Club was a blast. We learned about Fixing Charms and practical uses for using them."

Harry grimaced as he looked at his hand. He knew he'd been lucky Norbert hadn't taken more than a nip at his hand. The hole the dragon made might have been large enough for its head. He was content to know Hermione found the spell easy to learn and could learn it himself if he wanted to. The promise of joining the Charms Club had greatly interested him. Potions had fallen behind in his interest after the twins had given him their project.

"I'll go next week," he said with a smile and put his Charms book away. "Anything interesting going on in class?"

"Professor McGonagall is having us go back over Switching Spells with larger objects. So far everyone is having some difficulty. She's throwing in a lot of review questions every lesson. Professor Quirrell is going over Zombies and the defining characteristics of each type, again. I'd hoped we would be to Hags or Vampires by now. Professor Snape has been giving Neville a lot of trouble the last few days. We're going over Herbicide Potions and the uses of Moondew as a review. Professor Binns has us going over the 1752 Goblin Rebellion."

Harry frowned and routed around in his robes with his left hand. "1752 was the one with Minister of Magic Albert Booth, right?" he asked as he pulled a few cards from one of the inner pockets.

"Albert Boot, not Booth. He was replaced by Basil Flack for two months before Hesphaestus Gore took over. Ponk the Foul and Wrioc the Bloody were the two main instigators of that rebellion. They had assistance from Esdras Jowchet, a child-bitten werewolf, and Sybil Gavell, an unknown werewolf. Both of which were instrumental in Minister Flack's removal from office," Hermione answered with a wide smile.

Harry flipped through a few cards with one hand. "I don't think I have all that in these cards. When I get both hands back, I'll work on redoing some of the cards I've memorized."

"How is your project with the twins going?" Hermione asked as she stared at the book in his lap.

"Uh, well, mostly well," Harry muttered as he shifted in the bed. "They might seem like jokers but they aren't dumb. I don't understand all of what they've written here," he admitted and winced at her look.

"I suppose you won't let me look at their… work?" she questioned as she looked her friend in the eye.

"Sorry, you don't know how much your knowledge would help, but they would flay me alive if they knew I showed anyone their hard work. It isn't evil or anything; it's quite ingenious, but you wouldn't approve. Sorry," Harry finished with a shrug.

Hermione seemed disappointed yet her lips curled upward at the ends. Harry got the impression he pleased her by what he'd said, but wasn't sure what he said to make her happy. She hated being excluded from anything magic related. "It is one of their pranks isn't it," she mused with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not telling," Harry answered and stuck out his tongue. "On a side note, I thought of a way you might be able to help. How would I go about modifying a spell or creating my own?"

Hermione froze and pursed her lips. She tapped the bed with her fingers as she stared into space. After a minute, she frowned and scrubbed at her nose with one finger. "I don't know for sure without seeing which spell you wanted to modify. I'm not sure where to start for certain."

Harry nodded and smiled. "It is a ton of work and I've been studying different books for research for a while now. All our spells are based in Latin so I had to start by trying to understand the basics. That took a while to learn. Some of the spell-work theories are super confusing to me and much of it contradicts one another in different ways. One book talks about how important the word structure of the spell is while another talks about wand movement as a symbolic channel for our magic. Another book says it is more about intent and willpower yet dismisses any sort of wand movement or language. It goes on to explain you could create spells in a made up language and it have the same effect. I've put that one aside for now. I haven't shown any progress with that yet. All three books use Colour Switching Charms as a basis for changes in magic. We know you can change more than just the color of an object with the spell. You could change a color, pattern, or even create a painting of multiple colors. All three books show the spell wording and wand movement are the basic structure to the spell, but your desire and … for lack of a better word, intent is what changes the object."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Could I borrow one of the books to read? I'd like to give my opinion after reading what you've read on the subject."

Harry smiled and passed her the book in his lap. They talked about some of their other homework assignments before Hermione left for the evening. He read more about creating and changing spells through much of the night using the light of his wand. The next day he was released from the Hospital Wing with a few ideas to try.


	11. Chapter 11: A Lesson in Pain

**AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__. _

**Chapter 11: A Lesson In Pain**

Harry glanced around the corner as he crept toward the library. He'd been unable to rest well after getting out of the Hospital Wing. Nightmares had woken him twice during the night so he gave up on sleep in favor of reading. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he moved closer to the library. Dim torches on the wall cast long shadows down the corridors. He eased the door to the library open and let it swing inward before hiding in an alcove down the corridor to watch the door.

The last thing he wanted was for a professor to catch him trying to get into the library in the wee hours of the morning. He waited for ten minutes before deciding there were no alarms to get any of the teachers up. Madam Pince would be more unpleasant than usual if he woke her. Harry moved back across the corridor and into the library.

The two torches by the door were burning low as he entered. Cautious of making any noise, he crept into the central area with several polished wooden tables. A house-elf scrubbed at the edge of one table with a rag. The little figure froze and looked around before disappearing with a quiet pop. Harry frowned and hoped the house-elf hadn't gone to find a professor. He covered the tip of his wand with one hand and cast the Wand-Lighting Charm. His cupped hand blocked light as he parted his fingers just a little to allow a sliver of light to brighten the darkness.

It took him ten minutes of hunting with the light of his wand to find a book that looked interesting. He flicked his wand and muttered "Nox," before putting it back into his robes. The large leather-bound book was heavy as he lifted it off the shelf. He moved to a table near the back of the seating area and sat down, facing the library door. The low light was just enough for him to see by as he started to read.

_ Incantations and Magic: A Novice Guide to Understanding Your Fundamentals_ by Erkan Nasred; Translated by Tobias Maximon Donnet was slow and difficult for him to read. Harry struggled to decipher the Old English style of writing and comprehend what Erkan was trying to teach. The translator, Tobias, put comment paragraphs at the beginning and end of each of the chapters to describe the chapter and his thoughts Erkan's work at the end. Some of the more scathing comments on the Turkish way of teaching magic amused Harry. He wondered if the translator had tried to market the book as an original idea.

Just as he was going to give up on the book, he stumbled on a chapter about the structure of charms. Erkan said the three components to any use of magic were the intent, a somatic component, and understanding. The intent of the wizard had to match a verbal, or sometimes non-verbal, symbolic word or phrase. He went on to state magic had no language but required a mature language. While a wizard could make up their own language for spells, they would never have the same power. Magic permeates all things and grows stronger around more magic. Wizards use language to communicate and when used for magic, as it has been for centuries, the understanding and power of each word grows. He gave an example of why Ancient Runes had more power in each rune than any single word in the current times.

Harry sat back and digested the information. In Charms class, Professor Flitwick had talked about the strength in words and how Ancient Runes was a difficult and powerful subject. He wondered how many wizards spoke English across the world and if it would have the same power as Latin in terms of power behind the words. From History of Magic, he knew of some other countries who used their own languages for using magic and not Latin. He shrugged and went back to reading.

Language, or verbal components, helped a wizard maintain a constant outcome of a spell. Certain words or syllables had multiple meanings in not only the language spoken but also when it interacted with magic. While the intent of the caster is the largest factor in casting a spell, nothing happens without the correct magical link through words. Erkan warns for wizards to take time and precaution before adjusting or changing spells.

Understanding is the last component to a spell. A wizard can cast any spell that Magic has established; however, many factors go into the successful application of the spell. When a wizard creates a spell, the intent and a verbal component are accepted by Magic. Without sufficient understanding, a wizard has help by their Magic to cast the established spell. He gave an example of the easiest spell to learn, the Wand-Lighting Spell. Every wizard could produce light to see by using various methods to reach the same goal. Erkan explains that Magic as an undefinable source of power that assists and facilitates the casting. Only when a wizard understands the spell's intent at creation, could they achieve the maximum effect. Understanding isn't about knowing what the spell effects but also how it affects the target as well.

The fifty-page theory gave an example of the Patronus Charm as a deeper example into his theory. Many agree the Patronus Charm to be a powerful and difficult spell to master. Wizards across history have trouble casting the protective charm. A popular belief among wizards is that the charm requires the caster to be a pure soul, or pure of heart, to cast. Erkan disagreed on several facts. The Latin words associated with the Patronus Charm are "protector", "guardian", or the older Roman word of "patron". Patron meant "benefactor" or sometimes "father". It is unknown when the spell was first created but the effect of the spell has remained unchanged for centuries. Requirements, or intent, is paramount to producing the final, or complete form of the charm. A wizard can only achieve the full power of the charm by holding their happiest memory at the forefront of their minds, reciting the incantation, and expecting something to protect you. If the caster fails at any of these requirements, then the spell will fail or an incorporeal version of the spell will manifest.

Harry skimmed over the translator's comments at the end of the chapter with a smirk. Tobias did not agree with Erkan and referred the reader to his book about understanding the makeup of spells. He chastised Erkan as a dreamer and philosopher of Magic instead of a practical and sane wizard. Something that caught Harry's attention was the section that talked about the effect and affect of each spell. Professor McGonagall talked endlessly about the exact science of Transfiguration. "Could Charms and other spells like it be the same?" he muttered under his breath as he read back over the long chapter again.

The sound of something closing startled him out of reading the chapter for the third time. He froze as he looked at the library door. The door was closed, so he scanned the surrounding shelves. There was no movement, but he thought he could hear soft footsteps near the back of the library. His heart froze as he imagined Madam Pince getting up early to check on her precious books. He stayed still after covering the book with his Invisibility Cloak. The sound of footsteps came closer. He looked around the seating area and froze as he looked at each table. All the tables had their chairs pushed in. With deliberate and slow movement, he slid off his chair and pulled the heavy book to his chest. He backed away from where the noise was coming from and crouched behind another table.

An older Ravenclaw girl with long brunette hair appeared between two bookshelves, a book clutched in her hands. She flicked her wand, causing the torches to burn brighter before sitting down at the closest table. Her dark eyes looked around the sitting area for a moment before opening her book and digging a quill and inkpot out of her bag.

Harry frowned and watched as the older student worked. He knew she hadn't come from the library door. The bookshelves from where she appeared drew his eyes and he wondered if the Ravenclaws had a secret passage to their tower hidden somewhere behind the warren of shelving. He tried not to sigh as he backed away from the table in a low crouch. With the door to the library closed, he knew he wouldn't be leaving until the girl finished. He sat down behind a shelving unit near the sitting area and tried to go over what he'd read in his mind.

"Harry, you seem distracted today," Hermione questioned as they moved to their next class.

"Hmmm," Harry responded with a shrug. "Read something that's been on my mind. Do you think Charms and Transfiguration could be similar? Could the precise change of one object to another in Transfiguration be linked with say the Levitation Charm?"

"What are you on about, mate?" Ron asked as he scratched his head.

"I don't know," Hermione muttered with a frown. "I suppose, maybe?"

"The translator of the book said it was rubbish, but I can't help but wonder," Harry mused as they followed the other first-years to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall reviewed the Transfiguration Formula of body weight, viciousness, wand power, concentration, and the fifth, unknown variable. Harry listened as she gave example after example of why it was important and how it was critical to successful Transfiguration. After her lesson, she had them work on changing wooden spheres into birds.

Harry noticed a pattern Hogwarts teachers used to educate their pupils. Most of the teachers would work on the basics of the new spell or concept for a week with minimal practical application. The next week they would focus on practical applications of the concept with minimal lecture time. History of Magic was the only class that only had lectures. He snorted, imagining Professor Binns hovering over a desk and acting out a scene from one of the many goblin rebellions. For every subject, the professor would revisit concepts multiple times during the course of a year. Harry already had six weeks of instruction on the Transfiguration Formula and its principals, however each time Professor McGonagall used different examples and had them work with tasks of greater difficulty. Professor Snape did something similar, but his review lectures were few and far between. As the students in his class didn't brew potions all the time, they were subject to his many lectures on each magical and non-magical ingredient.

"Harry, you're staring off into space again," Hermione hissed as Professor McGonagall lectured Neville about why wood differed from a bird.

"Thinking, sorry," he muttered back and focused his attention back on the project. "What exactly is a bird," he questioned to himself.

Hermione looked at him as if he'd lost his marbles. "What?" she asked as she waved her wand over the wooden sphere on her desk. It wobbled as it transformed into a brown-ish resemblance to a bird.

"What makes up a bird?" Harry continued as if he hadn't heard his friend. "Wings, yes, but more," he muttered and imagined building a bird from nothing. The light, rounded body with a smaller rounded object for the head. The eyes and beak stretching out of the head. Muscles between large wings and muscles to carry the bird aloft. Two small feet and soft, blue feathers to help the wings. He took time to weigh the bird in his mind against the oak sphere in his hand.

Sitting straight in his chair, he calculated the Transfiguration Formula in his mind and waved his wand over the sphere on the table, pushing his will into the wood. The sphere grew two small feet before a narrow, round head appeared. All the steps he'd envisioned formed from the wood as the bird took shape and changed color. His worked impressed him until he realized one fatal flaw. "Oh, I forgot to make it a bird," he sighed and waved his wand back over the inanimate bird.

"That was well done, Mr. Potter. Take five points for a beautifully sculpted Finch. Remember, it isn't just about transforming the wood into a bird, the bird needs life too," the professor praised with a rare smile.

"Thank you, professor," Harry responded as he watched his bird roll back up into an oak sphere.

Hermione smiled at him before focusing back on her own work. Ron muttered something under his breath and waved his wand over his sphere. It became a lump of wood that resembled a Thrush.

Harry spent the next week reading in the library in the morning instead of spending the time to workout. For him, it became more about understanding why and how spells differed than it was about Fred and George's project. The twins were having trouble with the increased workload and Quidditch as the month of May approached. Harry heard Easter break signaled the start of hard study for exams. At Providence, he worried about examinations but didn't try too hard. The last thing he wanted was to stand out on the Top Of The Class board. He bit his lip as he thought about his life at Hogwarts.

"Hey, are you guys going over Wood's plays?" Harry asked as he plopped down next to the twins in the common room.

"Wood is teetering on the edge of insanity," one twin muttered with an aggrieved expression.

"Made us do double exercises this morning," the other twin bemoaned.

"Fred here almost fell off his broom because his legs were too weak," George said in a low, conspiratorial whisper.

"Oi," Fred shouted and pointed at his twin. "Georgie here actually fell off his broom when we landed at the end of practice," he said with a wide smile.

"I was merely greeting the ground as an old friend," George shot back with a hand over his heart.

Harry snorted and looked over the parchment on the table. "Have you asked Ron to look some of this over? He'd love this kind..." he faltered as the twins looked at him as if he were mental.

"Are you mental?" Fred asked as he looked at his twin. "Invite ickleronniekins over to talk Quidditch. We want to go to bed sometime this year!" George nodded vigorously.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "Fair point," he mused as he looked over the parchment again. "You get anywhere with the project?" he asked off-hand.

"No time, we're shut up in our la… borious efforts to get amazing grades," Fred announced after faltering for a moment.

"A lab, huh?" Harry grinned and laughed when George hit Fred on the arm. "What do you use to protect yourselves as you try different word combinations?"

George turned his head slowly toward Harry. "We thought you'd given up," he said with a raised eyebrow. "Not that we blame you, mind," he added with a small laugh. "The book we read, _The Dos and Don't of Magic_ by Erbert Gadding said to use small things first, like parchment, to test your spells on. We've had a few… mishaps," he said to Fred's nodding agreement. "However, we've come away in tact!"

Harry snorted and memorized the book name to find in the library. "I haven't tried anything myself yet, just done a lot of reading. I'm ashamed to admit I don't understand everything."

"Don't be ashamed," Fred started. "We still don't understand half of what we do," George finished with a shared laugh.

**XXXXX**

Harry turned the corner at top speed as he rushed to get to Potions. Professor Quirrell had questioned him on his essay about Imps and their relation to Pixies. He did not want to be late for Potions. A shout from behind him made him turn to the side in reflex. His chest tightened as he ran harder toward the closest secret passage behind the portrait of Rainsword the Odd.

He cursed himself a fool for not keeping his wand out to protect himself in these situations. The painting of the aged wizard gasp as Harry ran toward him. "OPEN!" Harry cried as he charged the painting. The painting slid to the left on the wall to reveal a narrow passage. Harry jumped toward the opening. Fire and pain blossomed from his left shoulder and radiated through his torso. He felt like his skin was on fire.

Harry felt his lungs burn as he knew he was screaming. Groping around the ground, he frantically searched for his bag. His body felt like it was on fire as he rummaged around in his bag for one of his vials of Wiggenweld Potion. The spell-o-tape wrapped around the top of the stopper told him he found the right one. Runnels of pain burned his cheeks as tears fell. He struggled to open the vial, dropping it twice due to his unresponsive fingers. Heat coursed through his skin across his entire body, leaving pain in its wake.

He gritted his teeth and pulled the stopper off the vial. Wet liquid splashed on his face as he dumped the contents toward his mouth. The potion burned as it went down his throat but left a sense of pleasant warmth instead of pain. He could feel the potion taking effect as the burning in his skin receded. Everything ached as he lay there on the cold stone of the corridor. His finger twitched and his muscles contracted at random intervals as pain, dulled by the potion, lanced through his body.

Harry lay in the corridor for an unknown amount of time as he stared at the ceiling. Any time he tried to move, his nerves would flair up and send a stabbing pain through his body. He knew there were two more vials of the healing potion in his bag, but couldn't muster the strength to get them.

"_Malfoy got me this time,_" Harry thought to himself as he imagined the blonde boy's smug expression.

As he lay there, he cursed himself, Malfoy, magic, and his inadequate ability. On one level, he understood he was a young boy who'd just begun to learn magic, but he knew life waited on no one. His time at Providence taught him no matter how hard you worked, someone would always be more skilled or be in a better position than you were. Fairness was a fools dream. Tears ran down his face as he felt his eyes grow heavy.

"P-P-Potter," a shuddering voice called from somewhere in Harry's darkness.

Harry opened his eyes and winced as light spilled in from the open portrait. "Prof..." he tried to say, but the words burned in his throat.

"W-w-what happened?!" Professor Quirrell gasped as he lit his wand, shining it over Harry's form. "D-d-dark ma-a-a-gic, I'd sa-ay," he stuttered as he pointed his wand at Harry.

Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that Professor Quirrell wanted to curse him by the dark look in the adult's eye. A moment later, he felt himself being lifted off the ground by an invisible force. He tried to ask a question but his throat wouldn't work.

"To t-t-the Hospital W-Wing," Professor Quirrell said as he levitated Harry down the corridors.

It was dark outside as they passed an open window. Pain radiated out from his body as he floated along the corridor, his arms glued to his sides. He wondered how long he'd been in the corridor.

"Your f-f-friends are worried. A-a-asked Professor Mc-G-G-Gonagall to find you. S-S-Severus was l-l-late to his class too. They th-th-thought you'd been held up by the P-P-Potion Master," the stuttering professor said as Harry floated up the stairs to the Entrance Hall from the dungeons.

Madam Pomfrey gasped when Professor Quirrell brought Harry to the Hospital Wing. "What has been done to this poor boy?!" she wailed as she brought her wand up, aiming it at Harry. Harry tensed, causing more pain to radiate through his body. "No, child, I will not harm you," she said as she waved it slowly over his hovering form. She muttered an incantation under her breath as she worked her wand over his body.

"You have second-degree burns over most of your body, this is a dark curse," she muttered as her wand made a third pass over his body. "What did you drink to help alleviate some of this damage?" she asked as she looked Harry in the eyes.

"Wiggen," Harry gasped out as pain constricted his throat.

"That would do it," Madam Pomfrey said with a smile. "Something you brewed yourself?" she inquired as she focused her wand over his throat.

Harry heard Professor Quirrell talking to someone near the door as the pain in his throat lessened. "Yes," he gasped as his throat contracted with a small twinge of pain.

"Very well done, ten points to Gryffindor. Your potion wasn't perfect, which would have minimized all but the worst of the pain, you managed a strong potion for a first-year. Well done," she beamed at him. She waved her wand and floated Harry over to a bed. "Can I remove some of your clothing to see the damage, dear?"

Harry nodded and wished he hadn't. His scar burned as his eyes fell on the two figures by the door. Professor Quirrell was talking to Professor McGonagall. The aged professor's face looked pinched with her eyes narrowed. Only a small line showed where her mouth would have been. She locked eyes with Harry and he could feel the stern look wander over his body.

Madam Pomfrey pulled away his robes with care and split his shirt open with magic. He heard a small gasp come from the healer. Harry wondered if his skin looked like one of the veteran instructors at Providence who had horrible burn scars on the side of his face and neck. The wrinkled mass of hard flesh had bothered him more than he'd liked to admit. He listened to the healer wave her wand over his body and felt an unknown force manipulating his skin. His skin felt like a sheet being pulled and stretched once it got out of the dryer to get the wrinkles out. There was no pain as Madam Pomfrey worked her magic. She muttered to herself as she had Harry turn over.

"Dear, did the curse hit you in the back? Near your shoulder?" she asked as he felt a small probe of magic settle around his left shoulder.

"I think so," he muttered into the pillow.

"I see," the healer muttered and continued her chanting.

Harry heard move voices by the door and was glad when Madam Pomfrey closed the curtains. After a few minutes, the healer seemed to pause and had Harry turn back over. The healer's deep blue eyes looked worried as she looked him over. He wondered how badly the spell disfigured his body if her look was anything to go by. Thoughts of some of the war-wounds the instructors had surfaced in his mind.

"You can say no, but may I look lower to see if there is any damage to your legs or genitals?" Madam Pomfrey asked with a soft hand on his right shoulder.

Harry winced and shuddered at the thought of what the healer was implying. With a jerk of his head, he closed his eyes and took off his pants. Dull pain lanced through his body as he wiggled out of his pants over his trainers. He remembered the dormitory talk at Providence about how important his genitals were to being a man. A shiver ran through his body as he lay back on the bed.

Madam Pomfrey went to work without comment. A feeling of lightness ran through his legs, like a feather brushing against his skin. He closed his eyes when he realized he felt the stretching of his skin. A wave of desperation washed over him as he waited for the healer to finish with his legs. Madam Pomfrey had him turn over again to work on the backs of his legs before asking him to remove the last of his clothing.

Harry bit his lip as he pulled down his underwear. He watched the healer's eyes as she looked at his body. The slight tick to her eye made him freeze. Madam Pomfrey's eyes looked up and met his. "Dear, it will be okay. Let me see so I can help," she encouraged with a soft smile.

Steeling himself, he pulled his underwear the rest of the way down and lay back, closing his eyes. He let the experienced healer work as he tried not to imagine what it must look like. After ten minutes passed, Madam Pomfrey told him he could put his clothes back on. She disappeared behind the curtain and he could hear soft talking. For the first time since the attack, he looked at his hands and arms as he pulled his clothes back on. Bright red patches of discoloration dotted both of his forearms and across his hands. The patches had faint creased marks in random patterns. His hands had more distinct markings around the back of his hand and knuckles. He lay on the bed and pulled the two ends of his shirt together, trying to ignore the marred patches of skin on his hands. The scarring was as bad as he'd feared. Taking his wand, he mended his shirt and felt the fabric stitch itself back together against his skin. He didn't have the strength to look at his chest after seeing his forearms and hands.

Madam Pomfrey appeared with a potion in hand. "This is for any pain that might linger in your muscles. I'll get another for dreamless sleep after you speak to the Headmaster." She put the potion beside Harry and paused with her wand out, aimed at his chest. "Oh, you've already repaired your shirt," she said with a small smile. "I know the answer to this, but how are you feeling?"

Harry felt a chuckle escape his lips. "I've had better days, Madam Pomfrey," he joked and breathed out. "What… what was the damage?"

The healer pursed her lips as she eyed him up and down. "Do you want to know what you looked like before or would you rather know how you look now?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Both, please," he answered in a small voice. He clutched the bed sheets as he stared into her blue eyes.

Madam Pomfrey drew herself up and seemed to consider how to answer. "Mr. Potter, when you arrived I thought they had found you in a fire. Your hair remained untouched, but every inch of skin was burned. Understand this, dark curses are hard to repair, but I healed all of your burns. Where the curse hit you and where the effect radiated out from will remain scarred for the rest of your life. There is nothing I can do about it. It will serve as a badge of honor for surviving something that should have killed you. Yes Potter, had you not drunk the incomplete Wiggenweld Potion, you would have died due to shock, inability to breathe due to your throat constricting, or every inch of your body turned to ash. The potion countered the majority of the damage. You show great potential in Potions if you could brew what Professor Snape found in your bag.

"While I have healed the surface layers, some nerve damage you sustained will take time to heal. It might never completely heal. If our timing is correct, you were in that corridor for nine hours after your attack. I'm sorry to say, if they had found you earlier I could have erased a lot of the damage and you'd have unblemished skin again. There are spots on your body that will forever have discoloration and burn scars. After you rest, I will get a mirror so you can see for yourself."

Harry digested what the healer told him and breathed out. A tremor ran through his body as he tried to imagine the scars of veteran Gerald's face all over his body. "How, how is my..." he trailed off as he lowered his eyes. His clothes and robes covered his body, but he could feel an uncomfortable weight in his stomach.

"You will be happy to know there was minimal damage to your genitals after healing. There might be a few complications when you grow older, but everything works and your ability to reproduce hasn't been affected," Madam Pomfrey replied in a professional tone.

Harry blushed as he remembered some of the older cadets talking about reproduction. He nodded to the healer and muttered a thank you. His breathing regulated as he looked around his bed. "Thank you," he said again in a stronger voice, "I… I don't know how bad it might have been without you."

Madam Pomfrey smiled and patted his arm. "Rest is your next assignment. Drink the potion while I go inform the Headmaster." She left through the curtain and Harry picked up the potion from the bedside table. He drank it down with a grimace. The silky sludge texture reminded him of his own Wiggenweld Potions. He hadn't recognized the potion because it was a deep turquoise color instead of the murky blue of his brewed potions.

The healer returned through the curtain with Professor Dumbledore behind her. "Harry, I would like to first congratulate you on an excellent job brewing your potion. I believe Poppy told you the same but I too would like to congratulate you," the Headmaster said as he sat by the bed. His twinkling eyes roamed Harry's face. "I will not ask how you are feeling, as I've spent my fair share of time recovering from unexpected attacks. I must ask, however, what happened to the best of your knowledge?"

Harry breathed and launched into his story. He explained how he'd run from Defense Against the Dark Arts after Professor Quirrell questioned him about his assignment. His instinct to dodge when he heard a shout behind him and his desire to get away. He skimmed over his multiple conflicts with Malfoy and the growing worry the Slytherin boy was learning darker spells.

"Mr. Malfoy's magical ability is improving; however, he could not cast a curse to damage you to this extent," Dumbledore answered in a gentle tone. "Since the founding of Hogwarts, we as professors and caretakers of the next magical generation have followed in the footsteps of the founders. Conflict has a way of making us improve faster. Many old traditions say this is the right way to have young witches and wizards learn," he explained with a sad smile. "I disagree with many of the old traditions and stress unity of all the houses."

Harry mulled over what the Headmaster told him. If Malfoy couldn't have cast the spell, then who could have? Professor Quirrell mentioned Snape had been late for Potions. He also knew other, older Slytherins had joined in Malfoy's game of hunting Harry. "What now, Professor Dumbledore?" he asked with a frown.

"Now? You rest and recover. Today you've learned just how dangerous magic can be and how not everything can be fixed with a wave of your wand. A terrible way to learn, yes, but now you know. I would advise you to cease hostility with Mr. Malfoy and other Slytherins outside a controlled environment, but I think we both know that may not happen. I challenge you to learn to protect yourself, as only you can be responsible for your own health," the Headmaster proposed as he sat back in the little stool. "You are not alone, nor are you incapable. Your skill in Potions has shown you to be ahead of your peers. However, remember that attacking someone does more harm than good and there are far more effective spells when defending yourself."

Harry nodded to himself as he listened to Professor Dumbledore. "I understand, professor," he mumbled as he thought about his recent experience. "What could I have done differently?" he found himself asking as he stared at the old wizard.

Professor Dumbledore pursed his lips and hummed. "Sometimes, no matter what we do, the outcome is the same. You were ambushed by an opponent who was behind you, ready and prepared, while they caught you unawares. Even if you'd had your wand out, there is no guarantee you could have dueled your attacker or even gotten away without being hit by a curse. The simple fact in life is that nothing is fair. We do everything in our power to ensure we have the greatest possible success in life, but no one can account for everything at all times. The Shield Charm may have helped for a while, the Smokescreen Spell you use to great effect may have also helped."

"Take your time at Hogwarts to prepare yourself for the Wizarding World. You already have some idea of the fame you have by simply being you. While you should not to live up to anyone's expectations other than what YOU want, it doesn't mean others won't go easy on you. Your time at Providence has taught you some things about the world, not all of them correct. Voldemort is not the only Dark Lord to have risen, nor is he alone. Many of his followers are still out there and the power of the dark will seduce many more in the future. I urge you not to learn spells like what they attacked you with. Not only does it corrupt you but inflicting pain in that way on another is monstrous to grow comfortable with."

Harry frowned and imagined himself cursing Malfoy with whatever spell hit him. The idea of seeing the blonde boy's skin boil itself wasn't something that interested him. "I understand, professor," he answered with a firm voice.

"Good, good," Dumbledore hummed with a small smile. "Do not let this experience anger you. The staff and I will search for your attacker. Rest, recuperate, and learn. That is all I could ever ask for from any pupil."

"Thank you, Headmaster. Do you know when I'll be able to leave?"

"Poppy mentioned keeping you the night and one more day to make sure everything is in order. If you ever need anything, my door will always be open to you," the Headmaster said with a smile. His twinkling eyes met Harry's again before he stood and left.

Madam Pomfrey opened the curtain again and set a bottle on the bedside table. "Dreamless Sleep for you tonight. This is something you'll learn to brew next year. I will spend the night in the closed ward if you need anything, please feel free to knock on the door."

Harry thanked the healer and drank the potion. His body felt heavy as he lay back on the pillows. He stared at the back of his hand and moved his fingers, watching the burn scarring move and ripple across his skin. One of the guest instructors at Providence had so many tattoos on his body that it looked like he was one giant mural. Harry wondered if he could do the same thing to hide the burns.

"Remember, not all the scarring will remain after a week. I'll still be giving you treatments to help," Madam Pomfrey explained as she conjured a mirror.

Harry nodded and took the mirror from the healer. His unruly black hair remained the same and so had his bright green eyes. Everything else had changed. His nose had wrinkled scar tissue going up both sides to the bridge of his nose. The area around his cheeks seemed to be the worst. Patches of scar tissue spider-webbed out from the center of his face to his jawline. The left side of his face was worse than the right. His lightning bolt scar had become deformed between two long wrinkles of scar tissue. Part of the top of his left ear had melted inward and the right had scaring over the earlobe.

Something that shocked him was the scaring around his eyes. Both eyes had scarring that fanned out toward his temples with the left being more pronounced. He ran his finger over a few of the more prominent scars and grimaced. There was no feeling from his finger or his face. He felt tears welling in his eyes as he stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirror.

"There, there," Madam Pomfrey consoled as she flicked her wand, making the mirror disappear. "You've seen the worst it will be. After a few more days, a lot of the damage will have disappeared. Skin care is one thing we witches excel at," she added with a wink.

Harry chuckled and hated himself for the tears that fell. "Can, can I stay a while longer?" he pleaded as he stared at the wall. He could no longer see his face in the mirror, but he couldn't get the image out of his mind.

"I can give you a few more days, dear," Madam Pomfrey answered with a comforting smile. "Shall I have someone fetch you some food?"

Harry nodded and bit his lip. "Can, can you also hold off letting my friends see me? I'd rather… I'd rather them not see me like this."

The healer pursed her lips and eyed him. "Not all of the scarring will go away. I'm good but cursed magic is hard if not impossible to heal completely. I understand it might be hard, but you need to have faith in your friends as well."

Harry bit his lip harder and breathed. "Please, for a day or two at least?"

Madam Pomfrey eyed him and he thought she could see disapproval and sympathy in her eyes. "They see you Saturday at the latest. You are doing them a disservice, but I understand."

Harry spent his entire time in the Hospital Wing behind the curtain except to go to the bathroom. Madam Pomfrey refused to conjure another mirror until he agreed to see his friends, but she kept up the skin treatments twice a day. Harry spent the time reading his Defense Against the Dark Arts coursebook to look for the Shield Charm. There was mention of the shielding spell twice in the book, but no detail was given.

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Fred, and George requested to see him after dinner on Saturday. Harry was nervous and blew out the candle by his bed. Ron, Hermione, and Neville entered first. They pushed aside the curtain and took the three seats Madam Pomfrey arranged for them.

"How are you, Harry?" Hermione asked as she peered at him in the low light.

"On the mend," he answered with a shrug. "I've had better weeks but at least I didn't have to go to History of Magic."

Hermione harrumphed and shot a Fire-Making Spell at the candle. Harry was too slow to stop her. "Blimey, mate," Ron muttered as he looked Harry in the face. "I mean… I'm glad you're doing better," he finished in a smaller voice. Hermione had shot him a pointed look.

"You look like Great-Uncle Algie a little, Harry. Don't worry; it makes you look rugged," Neville said with a wide smile.

Harry grunted at being compared to a great-uncle. "Uh, thanks, Neville," he muttered. "How have classes been?"

"Never mind that, what happened?!" Ron asked. Neville and Hermione, who sat on either side of him, each punched him in an arm. "What?!"

Harry laughed and smiled. He watched Hermione's face who paled a little. With a rock in his stomach, he told his friends what little he knew. Ron and Neville gasped when he told them how burned he'd looked. Hermione stayed quiet and clenched her fists. "Oh, Harry, I'm glad you spent so much time on Potions," Hermione said once he'd finished the story.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "If I'd brewed the potion correctly, it would have healed more of my burns."

"Harry, you understand that potion isn't to be mastered until our sixth-year. It is easy to brew but incredibly hard to get perfect. Professor Snape has us use near out-of-date ingredients so we don't waste expensive supplies. I don't think you listen to the professor when he explains why ingredient freshness, preparation, and introduction to the potion are so important. You're always focused on the temperature being perfect and miss other important details!" Hermione said with a huff. "Harry, you're brilliant sometimes but you miss the simple things."

Harry winced as he listened to his friend. When she came right out and said it, he realized how right she was. Wiggentree Bark, the main ingredient in Wiggenweld Potions, had to be fresh to provide the greatest effect. The ones they used in class and in his personal supplies were older and dried to keep much of the magical properties. "You're right," he admitted. "I sometimes forget the broader subject."

"I blow my cauldron up on a regular basis," Neville interjected with a straight face. "I think Professor Snape is beginning to fear my existence," he mused. Ron and Harry laughed while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Thank you for coming to see me," Harry said with a small smile. His friends cheered him up and hadn't called him a freak. He saw the look on their faces but knew he had a similar look when looking at himself. The other cadets at Providence, even the ones he could call friends, wouldn't have visited him unless forced.

"What are you going to work on now?" Hermione asked with a smile. She knew him well.

"I, uh, was thinking about learning the Shield Charm. Professor Dumbledore mentioned it when we were talking about the attack. He said it might not have stopped the spell, but it would be a start to learning defensive magic. If I understood him correctly. Sometimes he confuses me," Harry admitted.

"I don't think I've heard of … wait, it was mentioned in chapter twelve of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_," she muttered. "I don't remember what the spell was though." Harry, Ron, and Neville goggled at their friend. She looked up with a sheepish expression. "What?!"

"You are a bookworm," Ron announced and puffed out his chest.

"You're the smartest witch of the year," Harry said as he tried not to laugh. It'd taken him most of the day to find any mention of the Shield Charm. "Yeah, it didn't go into much detail even though the author, Quentin, mentioned it was used to defend against a lot of simple cures, hexes, and jinxes."

Madam Pomfrey appeared and ushered Harry's friends along. She told them that Harry would attend Monday's classes. Fred and George came in and made jokes about finding better ways to hide his scar. "At least you'll pass for an old man before long," Fred joked as he took a seat. George pulled out a parchment and passed it to Harry.

"This is the list of word combinations we've come up with to make a firework spell. Not that wimpy sparks spell, a real boom of a firework," he said with a grin. Fred took over and pointed to a list on the left. "These are the ones we think Zonko uses to enchant the strips of parchment in the fireworks. When the enchantment breaks because of the fire in the fuse, the spell shoots off through the tube."

George pointed to the list of words on the right. They'd crossed some of them out. "These we've tried every combination we can to make something work. We've got a place no one goes to test some of the spells out. I'm glad we do, as a few of them backfired spectacularly."

Harry read through the list and nodded. He had a much better idea of what the twins were trying to accomplish. "There are a lot of possibilities here," he muttered.

"Who are you telling," the twins chorused with put-upon expressions. "Wood is beating us into submission with his Quidditch training and the work from the professors is murderous. How are we supposed to test our ideas out!"

Harry laughed and pulled out his wand. He cast the Copying Charm and waited with the twins as they joked with him.


	12. Chapter 12: The Forest

**AN:** _I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__. _

**Chapter 12: The Forest**

"You look better with burns than you did before, Potter," Malfoy sneered as they took their seats in Potions on Monday.

Madam Pomfrey had done what she could for him, but there were still faint traces of his burns all over his body. She showed him a medical book that explained the severity of the damage that had been inflicted on him. After reading through the chapter, he agreed that he got off lucky. The fact didn't help whenever he looked in a mirror, but it was a small comfort.

"Your mother will still come knocking on my door, Draco," Harry shot back with a laugh. It was one of the insults the older cadets at Providence used a lot.

"You filthy Blood-traitor," Malfoy growled and clutched in his robes.

Harry knew he was going for his wand but didn't go for his wand. He'd heard Snape's soft footsteps outside the open classroom door. The image of the greasy Potions Master floated in his mind's eye as he heard Professor Quirrell's voice in his head. Snape had been late to class on the day of Harry's attack. It made him suspicious of the Potion Master. He made a note to ask the Defense Professor about that in the next class.

"Put that away," Snape ordered as he glided into the classroom, his robes billowing behind him. He took his customary place in front of the class and scanned the room with his eyes. They landed on Harry. Harry thought he saw Snape's eyes widen with surprise before they became a blank mask again. "Welcome back from your… relaxation in the Hospital Wing, Potter."

"Thank you, sir," Harry answered with narrowed eyes. He wondered if Snape was admiring his curse's work or if he'd not realized the extent of the damage he'd caused. A quiet voice in his mind asked if he was putting the blame on Snape when he had no proof.

"A congratulations are in order. Your fumbled attempt to make the Wiggenweld Potion saved your life," the Potions Master stated with a small, slow clap. "The numerous other vials tell me you've been practicing outside of class, something I expressly forbade. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

Harry clenched his teeth but didn't respond. The other Gryffindors muttered under their breaths. Snape seemed to be waiting for something. "Well, Potter? I congratulated you on your lack of skill. Shouldn't you thank me?"

It took all of his willpower to fight down his anger. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "Thank you, sir, for assigning us the coursebook by Mr. Jigger," he answered. He felt his lip tug as he fought to keep in a laugh.

The room was quiet until someone in the far corner snorted. "I see," Snape answered with a sneer. "Think you're smart do you? However far ahead of your peers you think you are, the truth is you are behind them. Your Troll level essays speak for themselves."

Malfoy and a few of the others snickered. Harry noticed Daphne's eyes looking between his face and his hands. She didn't laugh or have any expression.

Professor Quirrell lectured about Vampires in a quivering voice. He read straight from the textbook and skipped over anything to do with blood, which was most of the chapter. Harry tried to pay attention, as a sign of respect for the professor who saved him. The rest of the class had already had a glassy stare as they nodded at random intervals. It was a familiar sight in History of Magic.

Harry waited after class and called out, "Professor, could I ask a question?" All the other students had left for their next class. Harry didn't want to wait until after dinner to ask the professor his question.

"Y-Y-Yes, Harry?" the stuttering wizard said as he turned. "W-W-What can I help you with?"

"Sir, did you mention Sna… Professor Snape was late the day someone attacked me? Harry asked in a rush.

"Y-Y-Yes I did, P-P-Potter. Severus has a l-l-long history of hating Potters," Quirrell answered with a small shrug. "He and your f-f-father hated each other in school. H-H-He's spoken a l-l-lot about how they f-f-fought at school. Like you and M-M-Mr. Malfoy."

"Really?" Harry asked as he replayed his interactions with the Potion Master over in his head.

"Y-Y-Your father was a b-b-better wizard than Severus. He h-h-humiliated him whenever p-p-possible. Headmaster is w-w-working on finding whoever a-a-attacked you, Mr. P-P-Potter. The c-c-culprit will be found w-w-whether or not they are a student or t-t-teacher."

"Thank you, professor," Harry said as he left the classroom. He rushed to Charms while keeping an eye out for ambushes.

After taking his seat in Charms, he breathed out and holstered his wand. He noticed his hands shook while moving from class to class. Professor Flitwick continued talking about the magical theory of the Fire-Making Spell. Harry and Hermione had mastered the spell just after Christmas when the subject had first been taught. Bored, Harry fought to look interested in the class while going over what he'd learned from Professor Quirrell.

He skipped dinner with the others in favor of going to the library. The looks he got from the other students had made him feel queasy. Among the coursebook section in the library he found a book called _Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts_ by Galatea Merrythought. He found the Shield Charm in the middle of the book.

**XXXXX**

Easter Break signaled the start of exam preparation. Hermione wanted to head home to visit her parents until the homework started piling up from the professors. Harry focused on learning the Shield Charm and struggled to complete his coursework. Hermione talked to him about his attitude after the attack. He was snappish and angry in response to much of the school talking about his burned face and hands. The savage voice in his heart wondered if they'd like the same treatment. He didn't blame them, as he'd gawked at Lavender Brown for messing up a spell to wash and dry her hair. The spell had gone awry, causing her to be bald for a week. While he didn't blame the other students, it still annoyed him.

"Hermione, just go with your parents. You've probably already completed the homework as it is," Harry groused as he rubbed his forehead. His scar prickled and throbbed at random times.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione muttered as she picked up a small book. "I've got two Transfiguration essays, one more in Potions, two more in History of Magic, three in Herbology, and one in Charms. That is a ton!"

Harry snorted and smirked. "That sounds like two days of work for you, out of an entire two weeks. Just go have fun with your family."

They bickered back and forth as Harry tried to concentrate on his essay on Potions. He'd noticed his desire to understand Potions had dropped off after learning about Snape. His essay on Dittany was eleven inches long and he needed another inch before it would meet the Potion Master's requirement. He mulled over a closing argument about why Dittany was stronger than Wiggentree Bark for general healing, but wasn't the main ingredient in the Wiggenweld Potion. He looked up when he noticed Hermione had stopped talking.

"What's up?" he asked as he stoppered his inkpot.

"Harry, you'd do double the work in many of your Potions essays to prove to Professor Snape you know the subject. But now… now you do the bare minimum in and out of class. What happened? Is it because he's been meaner to you since… well, since you were attacked?" she asked with a frown.

"Hard to respect someone who uses every chance to berate and belittle me, Hermione," Harry answered as he crossed his arms. "I haven't given up on Potions. I like the subject but wish I had a different teacher. I'm not going to try and prove myself any longer to that… adult," he spat and narrowed his eyes.

"Harry," Hermione said in a low tone but stopped as Ron entered the common room.

"Fred and George keep going on about Wood. They have to realize how important some of those plays are!" Ron yelled as he plopped down at one of the free chairs.

"Trying to teach them the error of their ways?" Harry asked with a grin.

"They just won't listen," Ron complained as he sat forward. "At this rate we won't win the cup! We have to win by like three hundred or more points to get the cup."

"By the way, what did the twins drag you off for the other day?" Hermione questioned Harry.

Harry tried not to laugh. If Hermione knew Fred and George drug him into a girl's bathroom to show off their "lab", she'd either throw a fit or laugh at them. "Their project is going well," he answered with a shrug.

"Harry, can I look at your essay on Switching Spells? I still need like six inches," Ron asked as he opened his bag.

"Harry will not let you copy!" Hermione chastised and glared at Harry.

Laughing, Harry put up his hands. "You heard the boss, Ron. No cheating."

"Aw, can you at least look at my essay to give me a few hints?" the redhead asked as he stared at a crumpled piece of parchment.

Hermione had gone to her parents after pulling two late nights before the start of the holidays. Harry spent a lot of time in one of the unused bathrooms on the seventh floor that Fred and George used for their testing room. A cauldron sat on a transfigured table made from one of the stall doors.

He spread a pile of ingredients out on one side of the cauldron while his Potions book was open on the other. Harry finished cutting the last of the ingredients and placed it at the eleven o'clock position on the left side of the table, completing his Potions Clock.

"Salamanders are red until they stir orange," he muttered and added the first measure of Salamander Blood to the potion. The clear liquid in the cauldron started to turn pink as he dripped the blood in. Once the last of the blood entered the cauldron, he waited for a moment. The liquid turned blood red after a minute. He stirred the cauldron in an even clockwise motion. The liquid went from red to a murky orange. He kept stirring until he saw a bright orange.

"Dittany and Wiggen turns yellow under the sun and stir until it becomes green," he muttered and dropped his crushed Dittany into the cauldron. The mashed Wiggentree bark went in next. He waited until the liquid turned yellow then stirred until it turned a deep green.

"Moly wants more for turquoise and cook it to blue in the face," Harry continued his story. He added Moly until it turned a bright turquoise. Pointing his wand at the small brazier under the cauldron, he lit the fire with a spell.

Once the liquid became blue he continued, "Horks and Fangs makes me pink before burning my love to red. Five lions heat to a yellow side dish. Five more and flubbers make a purple delight. Spin it around until red in the face. Stewed and slimed for orange mash. Spin me around until I become yellow, add honeywater for a blue-green mellow. Moon and Berry in the pot to simmer my stomach, a sprig of mint to taste, let it sit for thirty and don't make haste."

He followed his story as he added the Horklump juice and Chizpurfle fangs. Lionfish spines, Flobberworm mucus, stewed Mandrake, Billywing sting slime, Boom Berry juice, Moondew, Honey Water, and mint all were added to the cauldron. Harry stood and walked to the mirror on the wall. He stared at his face. A different face stared back as he gripped the edge of the sink, lost in thought.

After he got disgusted with the face in the mirror, he took his Defense Against the Dark Arts book he'd borrowed from the library and practiced his Shield Charm. Fred and George had been more than happy to help him practice his charm as they chucked experimental firecrackers at him. The small paper missiles would go off with a bang of red and green sparks if they got through his shield.

Learning charms and counter-curses had become easy after Harry spent so much time learning about how spells work. He didn't consider himself an expert, as many of the authors disagreed with one another, but he felt confident in his rudimentary knowledge. While he could cast many of the spells, many were weak and underwhelming. He knew much of the issue lay with his weak magical strength. In the Magical Theory part of Charms, he learned that getting stronger in terms of magical strength came from several known and unknown factors. A wizards family power was one indication of magical power but it wasn't a rule. Many Muggle-born witches and wizards were powerful. Professor Flitwick summed it up as using a muscle. If a witch or wizard spent a lot of time learning, understanding, and using magic then they would become more powerful.

Harry agreed with Professor Flitwick's assessment. He knew he'd never have been able to cast any of the advanced spells before reading the books on spell creation. Magical Exercise, as he liked to call it, replaced his workout times in the morning. The physical strain from his workout and the mental and magical strain from his practice were like night and day. When physical workouts tired him out, he could still get to class and preform as normal; however, if he became tired when practicing different forms of magic, he'd be almost useless until lunch.

Ron caught up with him when he went down to lunch. "Harry, where have you been all day?" Ron asked as he pulled a heaped plate of food toward him.

"Brewing," Harry answered as he looked around the Great Hall. More students stayed for the Easter Break than the Christmas one. Harry noticed Malfoy missing with some satisfaction.

"You gret the pothon wright?" Ron asked with his mouth full of food.

Harry felt his eye twitch as he stared at his friend. Ron's habit of talking while eating was legendary in the Gryffindor tower. "Almost, I think," Harry answered with a shrug. "I've probably spent twenty Galleons on cheap materials to continuously make the potions. I hope I'm showing some progress," he muttered and dug into his plate.

"How much have you spent already?!" Ron choked as he goggled at Harry.

"On materials alone?" Harry mused as he pushed a sausage across his plate. "Maybe fifty or so Galleons. I'm doing all the first-year potions and a couple of the second-year ones as well. I can't trust Snape to teach me."

Ron gulped and speared a piece of meat. "It must be nice to have money," he muttered.

Harry mulled over what his friend said and wondered if he could somehow give Ron's parents money. It wasn't like he could spend everything in his vault. Fred and George warned him off the idea, mentioning their mother's wrath being a force of nature. "You ever finish the Transfiguration homework?" Harry questioned to change the subject.

"Yeah, just made it to eleven inches," Ron muttered as he ate. "Still have three more to do."

"We've got time," Harry responded and smiled. "Hermione would have our heads if we waited until the night before classes start again."

Ron choked on his food and gave Harry a baleful look. "Don't joke while I'm eating. She'd murder us in our beds."

Harry laughed and agreed. Their bushy-haired friend could be unreasonable when it came to homework.

**XXXXX**

"Potter! Malfoy! Crabbe and Goyle, all of you come with me!" Professor McGonagall called from the end of a corridor.

Malfoy and his cronies decided to take up their old game of Harry Hunting. The three boys waited near the Entrance Hall and ambushed Harry when he headed for the library. Harry had been alert and realized someone followed him. His plan to ambush the ambushers worked a little too well. The Knockback Jinx took Crabbe full in the face, sending him flying back into a wall. Goyle and Malfoy stood, frozen as they watched their friend fly past them. Harry's second spell missed Malfoy by inches and hit Crabbe in the stomach. The amplified Red Sparks Spell left a large red mark on the massive boy's robes. Crabbe doubled over in pain.

"Potter!" Malfoy cursed and fired a spell with a flick of his wand.

Harry, expecting the attack, tried his new Shield Charm. The spell missed both Harry and the charm, hitting a suit of armor in an alcove. Harry shot a Tounge-Tying Curse at Malfoy. It missed as the blonde boy dove out of the way. Malfoy's return spell bounced off Harry's Shield Charm. Harry's jubilation at his charm working got dampened significantly by their names being called.

"Fighting and spell casting is forbidden in the halls. That will be twenty points from each of you and detention next Friday," Professor McGonagall scolded and narrowed her eyes at the four boys. She sat back in her chair and studied the students before her.

"I expected better of you, Mr. Potter. All of you leave my office," the Transfiguration teacher commanded and pointed at the door. She stood and glared at each of them as they turned to leave.

"You'll pay, Blood-traitor," Malfoy growled under his breath as he led the Slytherins away.

Harry couldn't care less about the House points or the detention he'd received. A bubble of excitement sat in his chest as he remembered his Shield Charm deflecting away Malfoy's spell. He decided he wouldn't tell Hermione about his latest adventure unless it came up.

The match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin was a rough and dirty match between the Chasers and Beaters. Harry opted not to watch the match but regretted his decision after he heard how close the game was. Hufflepuff was sitting in the lead with five hundred and ninety points to Slytherin's five hundred and sixty points. Gryffindor would need to get two hundred and eighty points in their next game to win the Inter-House Quidditch Cup.

It galvanized Wood and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team into playing as hard as they could. Ward, becoming a social outcast after the last game, worked harder with the team to provide Gryffindor a win. His focus was still on his N.E.W.T.s, but spent much of his time on the pitch with the team. Slytherins, knowing they would come in second or third, openly fought Gryffindors in the halls once again. They told anyone who would listen that it was better to have a wimpy badger win than a disgusting lion.

Harry had a few more dangerous skirmishes with Malfoy after Easter Break ended. While he hadn't needed to go to the Hospital Wing, he had a few close calls. He'd used his bag to take the brunt of a spell that was cast at him from an alcove. The split second warning of seeing a wand and hand appear in from the darkness saved him. He whipped his bag off his shoulder and used it to block a dark colored spell. The bag exploded in front of him as he cast a Smokescreen Charm to escape. He'd had to use the library coursebooks for Potions and Transfiguration after that attack as they damaged his beyond repair. Another attack came from a blank-faced Slytherin boy. Harry struggled against the speed at which his attacker cast spells at him. One spell grazed his leg, sending a shooting pain through his calf, as he ran away. The transfigured classroom door served as a strong shield against other attacks.

Snape would always appear minutes after the attacks from the Slytherins. Harry watched the Potion Master with suspicion and anger whenever he was around the professor.

"Sir, a moment?" Harry asked the Potion Master in his next class after getting detention.

"Potter," Snape answered with a hiss. "What do you want?" His dark eyes found Harry's and a sneer appeared on his face.

"Why do you hate me, sir?" Harry asked as he locked eyes with his professor.

"What?!" Snape questioned, his sneer slipping. "I do not hate you, Potter."

"I'm not an idiot, sir. Your verbal attacks and physical attacks are to provoke a response or injure me. I just wondered why you hated me. Was it because of my father humiliating you?" Harry asked with narrowing eyes. He wanted to understand the issue the professor had with him. After he learned about the rumors Snape let the other Slytherins know where Harry was, he confronted the Potions Master. While he expected instructors and professors to hate their students, he didn't expect this level of hatred without reason.

"You are a dunderhead if you think I hate you, Potter. Physical attacks? To my knowledge I've never so much as touched you, Potter," the Potions Master answered with a sneer and snort. "I could hate the fact you don't try in my class, or the fact you turn in substandard homework. You walk through the halls as if you own the castle and you attack my Slytherins without remorse."

Harry laughed. He heard the hard edge to his laugh. "The sad part, sir, is that I wanted to learn Potions as soon as I read the book. I'd hoped to be good at it and spent a week reading my coursebook back to front. Loved every minute of it, until… until I met you. Disappointed is the word I'd use. I looked up to you and admired your knowledge, even after your insults and taunts. Then I realized I could never call you professor. Oh, I'll say the words but only to keep civility. You are, in every sense of the word, a Potion Master. Now, after learning what I've learned about you, I can't respect you as a person."

Snape sat back as he listened to Harry's angry tirade. Something glimmered behind his eyes. "Why should I care what an eleven-year-old boy thinks of me?" he questioned. The sneer on his face looked malevolent.

"You don't and shouldn't," Harry answered with a shrug. "I was giving you the answer to your explanation of hating me for not trying in your class. I would have thought my change in essays would have shown that to someone as smart as you. What I'd like to know is why."

Snape glared at Harry and stood. "My reasoning is my own and I do not need to explain myself to a child." He turned to leave when Harry spoke again.

"Is that why you've been sending the Slytherins after me? My father's humiliation he forced on you. If so, I'm sorry for a dead man's actions. Is that why you attacked me in the halls and caused my burns? I saw your face when I arrived back to class. It wasn't horrified like the other students; it was shock and guilt. I've heard the rumors and decided to ask you, face-to-face, if they are true," Harry spoke to Snape's back, his hand clutched on his wand under his robes.

"Is that what you think of me?" Snape questioned, his voice low. "You think I'd stoop to the level of attacking a child? Over what, someone telling you your father," he spat the word and stopped. "Your father was a bully, boy. Attacked people he thought was lesser than him. Him and Black, two … Marauders of Mayhem. They enjoyed what they did, boy."

Harry paused as he listened to the Potions Master's words. "You haven't been telling the Slytherins where I am? Haven't been attacking me? The attacks in the halls that weren't from Malfoy or his cronies hasn't come from you?" he questioned as he looked at Snape's back.

Snape turned and looked at Harry. His lips drawn back in a soundless snarl. "You aren't listening, Potter. I have no reason to attack you. You are a student, a pupil, I am forced to teach, yes. However, I am not a man who would attack a defenseless boy. You may believe what you want about the rest, I care not. Leave my sight." He waved his hand as clear dismissal.

Harry frowned and started to talk again but stopped. He knew Snape could be lying, but the look of righteous anger on the Potions Master's face looked too familiar. A look he saw in the mirror a lot at Providence when he was singled out for being a freak. He took a deep breath and nodded. "I would like to apologize first for the disrespect," Harry said and continued in a hurry when Snape looked like he would cut him off. "I truly am disappointed in my father if, indeed, he was a bully. I've lived with my share of them from my ex-family and all three years at school. So, sorry about that and all. Thank you for being honest," he finished and left, his mind working as fast as it could. If Snape hadn't been the one orchestrating the attacks, who had?

The next Potions class was different for Harry. Snape refused to acknowledge his presence in the class and took his homework and vial of Herbicide without comment. Hermione commented on the professor's odd behavior, but Harry didn't tell her what he suspected. Ron messed up his potion with Neville and got points docked for causing the cauldron to spill over.

Hermione found out about his detention and scolded him for half an hour. "Why do you insist on fighting all of your problems! You knew they were there and yet you decided to attack them rather than get away," she fumed as she pointed at Harry's nose. "You boys never think!"

He refused to talk about it more with his friend. Anger boiled beneath his skin as he tried to work out who burned him. She continued to talk but he tuned her out, instead focusing on the facts of what he knew. Providence taught them to look at facts and ignore their feelings. He struggled to ignore his feelings as he replayed the attack over and over in his mind.

Harry's detention would be with Hagrid and the other Slytherin boys. Filch let slip they would be entering the Forbidden Forest and Malfoy complained. Crabbe and Goyle looked confused as to why they were there. Their beady eyes looked more vacant than normal.

"Is that yeh, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started," a booming voice called from the darkness as Harry descended into the grounds.

Hagrid appeared with Fang in his huge leather coat. He gripped a worn crossbow in his meaty hands. "Abou' time," the giant muttered as he stomped into the light. "I been waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry?" he asked as Fang bounded over and licked Harry's face.

Pushing the over-sized dog off of him, Harry stood and grimaced. His face was wet with slobber. "Yeah," he muttered and glanced at Malfoy who was laughing.

"Don't be too friendly with them, Hagrid. They are serving detention. They are here to be punished, after all," Filch remonstrated with a huff.

"That's why yer late, is it?" Hagrid questioned with a snort. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take 'em from here."

Filch sneered at all of them and muttered something about dark creatures in the forest. He wondered aloud what would be left of the students once they came out, if they came out at all. Harry suppressed a shudder as the surrounding darkness seemed to grow a little darker.

"I'm not going in that forest," Malfoy announced and crossed his arms.

"Yer will if you don't want to be expelled," Hagrid answered with a laugh. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it. That goes fer yeh too, Harry."

Malfoy complained all the way to the forest's edge. Hagrid berated the blonde boy while Crabbe and Goyle lumbered along behind them. Hagrid stopped them shortly after entering the forest. "Right then," he growled and jerked a thumb at the forest behind him. "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're doing tonight, an' I don't want no one takin' risks. Follow close and don' wander off."

Hagrid led the group through the forest for a while. Crabbe and Goyle tripped over a number of roots, rocks, and other unseen objects in the dark. Harry felt a little sorry for the two lumbering boys. Malfoy complained in a hushed tone the entire time.

"Hold up 'ere," Hagrid ordered as he crouched near a dark spot on the ground. When Harry looked closer, he saw it was a silvery puddle as it reflected in the moonlight. "See that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in here bin hurt somethin' bad. This is the third this month. Found one dead last week. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

Harry wondered if they would find whatever hurt the unicorn first. Malfoy had the same idea. "What if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" he whined with a gesture at the blood on the ground.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," Hagrid answered as he stood. "Keep ter the path. We're gonna split inter two parties to search an' follow the path in diff'ernt directions. There's blood all over the place."

"I want Fang," Malfoy said with a look at the large dog.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a ruddy coward," Hagrid said with a laugh. "So… me, Crabbe, and Goyle will go one way and you, Fang, and Harry will go the other. Stick to te path, 'member that."

Harry and Malfoy watched as Hagrid lumbered off with Crabbe and Goyle stumbling in his wake. "Let's go," Harry muttered as he started down the opposite path. By wand-light, he could see a little way into the forest and spotted little patches of silver blood along the path. Malfoy lit his own wand and cast it around. Harry watched the blonde boy out of the corner of his eye. He didn't trust his rival to not attack him if given the opportunity.

"This is servant's stuff," Malfoy muttered as he aimed his wand-light deeper in the forest.

A reflection of something bright caught Harry's eye as Malfoy's light passed by a tree. He pointed his wand in the direction and froze. "There is something watching us from over there," he whispered.

"What? Where?" the blonde boy jeered with a shaky voice. Harry could tell the blonde boy was scared.

"By the tree with the two trunks intertwined. I saw yellow eyes watching us from between the two trunks."

"I don't see anything, Potter," Malfoy drawled. "Vermillious," he cried and shot red sparks toward the tree.

"Oh, dear," Harry muttered as he saw something dark move away from the trees as the red sparks illuminated the area. "That was something large," he gasped and gripped his wand tighter.

"I didn't see anything," Malfoy stammered. Harry saw his wand shaking as the boy next to him cast the Wand-Lighting Charm again.

"Keep your eyes open and don't shoot into the dark again," Harry cautioned and continued up the path. He kept an eye on the side of the path they'd seen the figure on as they continued on.

"GET BEHIND THE TREE," Harry hissed to Draco as he crested a small rise in the path. The path opened up into a small clearing, bathed in the full light of the moon. A large silver creature was lying on the ground with a large figure stooped over it. At first, Harry thought it was Hagrid but realized the figure was too small to be the giant.

The head of the figure came up and looked in their direction, blood dripping from beneath the cowl of the cloak. "AAAAAAHH! WAARREE," Malfoy screamed and bolted. Fang whimpered and charged after the blonde boy. Harry watched as the figure rose to its full height.

"Vermillious!" Harry cried and shot red sparks into the air over the clearing. He ran after Malfoy. He cast a Smokescreen Spell behind him, hoping it would delay whatever was in the clearing.

Pain lanced from his scar, burning the area behind his eyes. Sharp, stabbing pain wracked his brain as he fought to see the path in front of him. His scar felt on fire, not as bad as the curse had felt, but enough to make him stumble and trip over a large root. He looked back after scrambling to his feet to see a dark figure, blood all down its front, gliding closer. The pain in his scar became unbearable as he fought to keep alert. He pointed his wand at the figure and shot another red sparks spell at it.

A larger, hulking figure burst from the forest. He heard hooves, galloping as the horse-like creature charged the figure. Harry's vision blurred with water as pain lanced through his head again. When his eyes cleared, the dark figure was gone and the horse-like creature was standing before him.

"Are you all right?" a deep voice asked as Harry felt himself pulled to his feet.

"Huh, what? Yes?" Harry responded as he shook his head, trying to clear the pain and tears away. His scar throbbed but didn't lance pain. "Who are you?" he managed to get out.

"Firenze," the creature answered and lifted Harry off the ground with one hand. He deposited Harry on his back and instructed him to hold tight.

"Centaur," Harry muttered to himself with a gasp. He remembered reading about them in his Dark Arts coursebook.

"I am and you are the Potter boy," Firenze stated with a laugh.

"You know me?" Harry asked as he felt his eyebrows raise.

The sound of more galloping thundered around the quiet forest. Five more centaurs appeared from different directions. "Firenze!" a large centaur bellowed. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame! Are you a common mule?"

Firenze calmly stated he was saving "the Potter boy" from the attacker. Bane, angered further, yelled the centaurs were not to meddle in what the stars had foretold. "We are sworn to not set ourselves against the heavens! Have we not read what is to come?"

Harry watched with fascination as the two centaurs argued back and forth. Firenze stated he would fight against anything that attacked innocent unicorns, with humans if need be. He would be a mule to carry them into battle if it saved even one unicorn. The angered centaur turned and bounded away. Harry struggled to hold on to Firenze's torso.

"Why are the other centaurs angry with you?" Harry questioned once Firenze slowed.

The centaur came to a stop and helped Harry climb off his back. After he'd stood to his full height, he looked down and sighed. "Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"Uh, no?" Harry answered, confused how the question had anything to do with the other centaurs. "We've only used horns and tail hairs in Potions."

"It is a monstrous thing to slay a unicorn. To slay something so pure and defenseless is a curse itself, however if you were to ingest the blood of a unicorn. You would be cursed with a half-life, a cursed life beyond imagine. From the moment the blood touches your lips the terrible price is cast upon you."

"Who would do such a thing?" Harry asked, horrified by the idea.

Firenze's tail flicked back and forth as he pawed the ground. "Only one who is desperate and has nothing to lose. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death. It is a temporary measure. There is something hidden in the castle that would reverse the curse of a half-life. The blood keeps them alive while their goal is to be restored to power. Who do you know that would not hesitate to murder the defenseless. To kill a child whether it be a unicorn or an infant boy," Firenze asked as he stared Harry in the eyes.

A cold chill washed over Harry as he stared into the deep brown eyes of the centaur. A person who would kill innocent and defenseless people to gain power? "Voldemort?" he whispered and felt his scar throb.

"Leave the forest and do not return. It is not safe here. Follow the path and it will lead you to the castle," Firenze instructed and pointed to the small path under Harry's feet.

"Thank you for saving me," Harry said with a bow. He couldn't remember if it was custom to bow to a centaur but felt it might be right.

Firenze paused and nodded. His front legs bent as he bowed back. "Remember to keep your eyes open. Mars is bright tonight." The centaur turned and galloped off the direction they'd come.

Harry turned and started up the path toward the castle. He lit his wand and strained his ears to listen for any odd sounds. The forest was quiet except for the sounds of his feet crunching on the forest floor. A twig snapping ahead of him made him pause. He crouched down and aimed his wand in the direction of the sound. The light from his wand made him curse under his breath and muttered "Nox" to cancel the spell.

A bright flash of red shot in his direction from behind one of the trees. He saw it coming and dodged. Flames erupted on the path where he'd crouched a moment before. Harry fired red sparks in the air again and ducked another spell that had come from a different tree on the other side of the path.

"Fumos," Harry cried and jumped into a bush. Smoke billowed out from where he'd cast the charm. Crouching low, he tried to remain quiet as he crawled along the forest floor, away from the confrontation. The bush he'd jumped into burst into flames as he made his way back across the path. He could just see two squat, large objects appearing and disappearing in the smoke.

He debated firing a spell at one of the figures but waited. The forest was cast in a red glow from the two raging fires and the red charm overhead. Crabbe appeared out of the smoke, a blank look on his face. He kept his wand high as he did a slow turn, searching with his vacant eyes. Harry felt a little creeped out by the blank look on the Slytherin boy's face. He knew Crabbe and Goyle had mental difficulties by hanging out with Malfoy, but they'd never been expressionless before.

Crabbe's eyes roamed the dark forest. They stopped when Harry locked eyes with the expressionless boy "Ava…," Crabbe started before being cut off by Harry's spell.

"Mimblewimble!" Harry yelled and rolled out of the way, expecting a return spell.

He jumped to his feet and shot a followup Full Body-Bind Curse at the spluttering Slytherin. Crabbe's arms and legs locked together and he fell sideways into a bush. Goyle lumbered out of the smoke his blank eyes finding Harry.

"Locomotor Mortis," Harry said and watched the purple spell hit Goyle in the legs.

The large boy made no sound as he pitched forward, his legs snapping together. Goyle gave no indication he'd hit the ground. When the boy lifted his head, a small stream of blood trickled down the side of his head. He raised his wand to aim at Harry and said something.

"Petrificus Totalus," Harry yelled. He watched as a bright green spell shot into the air from the other boy's wand as his body locked up and froze like Crabbe's.

The fire from the two bushes dimmed as Harry confiscated the two boy's wands from their frozen fingers. Both boys were heavy and he had trouble lifting them onto the path. They stared into the distance and didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Harry? What's happened?" Hagrid thundered as he appeared from farther up the path. "Found the unicorn, but… what?" he continued as he came to a stop near where Harry sat.

"Crabbe and Goyle attacked me after Firenze, the centaur, saved me from whatever has been attacking the unicorns, Hagrid. I've got both of their wands."

"Crabbe an' Goyle?" Hagrid questioned as he moved to look at the two frozen figures. "They ran off when yer sparks went up," he mused. "Fang n' Malfoy are back along te path. Stay here."

Harry waited while Hagrid went to get Malfoy and Fang. Both where shivering and looking around the dark forest as they appeared behind Hagrid minutes later. "Up to te castle with the lot of you," Hagrid boomed. "I'll be needing them wands, Harry."

With a shrug, Harry passed the two wands to Hagrid and watch as Malfoy glared at Harry. "You attacked my friends," he accused with a snarl.

"Your friends attacked me. They are also acting strange," Harry answered with a shrug. "We can go to Professor Dumbledore about the truth. Tell him how much you three have been attacking me since the start of term. I read in one of the advanced Potions books about truth potions; maybe we can get them to drink one."

Malfoy blanched and glared at Harry. They watched as Hagrid lifted the two frozen boys and marched up the path. Ten minutes later, they stood in the Entrance Hall as Madam Pomfrey took charge of the frozen boys. She waved her wand over them and gasped. "Imperiused?" she muttered as she levitated them toward the Hospital Wing.

Professor McGonagall's lips drew into a tight line as she watched the healer disappear with the two boys. "Harry, I believe you need to speak to the Headmaster." She took the two wands from Hagrid, thanked him and sent Malfoy to bed.

Professor McGonagall led Harry through the castle until they stopped at an ugly stone gargoyle on the third floor. "Razzles," the professor announced and waited. The gargoyle came to life and jumped aside, revealing a circular staircase. They stood on the bottom stairs for a moment before the entire staircase moved. The steps rotated them upward by magic. Before he could get dizzy from the moving stairs, they reached the top. At the end of the small corridor, a large wooden door was closed with a worn animal engraved on the door. Harry though the carving might have once been a Griffin at one time.

The door swung inward without a sound as they approached. Harry gasped as he looked around the large circular room with many windows and numerous portraits of witches and wizards. Many of the portraits looked asleep, nodding off in their portraits or covering their eyes with various sleeping masks from different time periods. A massive cherry desk sat in the middle of the room. Bookshelves lined the room, accessible by stone steps on either side of the wide, arching window at the back of the room. The light scent of lemon and wood smoke made him think of the carpentry shop at Providence. Trinkets, books, and odd instruments placed haphazardly on lots of small tables that were scattered all over the room with the scratched surfaces. Another door led off the Headmaster's office, making Harry wonder if it went to Professor Dumbledore's bedroom.

"Ah, welcome, to what do I owe your company tonight?" a soft voice called from near the window.

Harry looked up and noticed a figure with their back to them, staring out the dark window. Professor Dumbledore was in a shadow until a cloud passed and moonlight shone through. Harry expected the aged wizard to have on pajamas or something similar, but the Headmaster still wore his purple robes.

"A suspicious attack during detention, Albus. I brought Harry to explain. Poppy believes two of the boys were Imperiused," Professor McGonagall called and deposited the two wands on the desk.

Harry glanced at all the parchments on the desk as Professor McGonagall led him to one of the two chairs. He read Severus Snape on one parchment and Quirinus Quirrell on another near the top of one pile. Rubeus Hagrid and Betella Francey were the top two names on another pile. He thought he recognized the name of Professor Francey from Percy. If he was right, she was the Muggle Studies professor. He took a seat while Professor Dumbledore continued to stare out the window.

"I see, thank you, Minerva," Dumbledore called and turned. His long white beard looked untamed, as if he'd just gotten out of bed. The aged wizard descended the stairs and took his seat behind his desk. "Tell me what happened, Harry," he asked and steepled his fingers as he looked Harry in the eye. Professor McGonagall patted Harry on the shoulder and left to check on Crabbe and Goyle.

"Uh, well professor," Harry started and faltered under the older man's gaze. He drew himself up and continued, "Hagrid brought us to the forest for detention. He said a unicorn had been injured. We split up with me, Fang, and Malfoy going one way while Hagrid, Crabbe, and Goyle went another. After stumbling around in the dark and following the silvery blood, we found the unicorn… but… a creature was drinking it's blood. Malfoy and Fang ran and I shot red sparks in the air before running myself. My scar hurt so much," he muttered in a rush. He let his mouth continue talking while he thought back. The mad rush, the pain, the centaurs, and Crabbe and Goyle's attack. He made sure to explain in detail about the attack.

"I believe, that will do," Dumbledore interjected as he picked up both wands. He took his own out and muttered something under his breath. A red wisp of magic came out of one of the wands. He repeated the process with the other and froze as a bright green spell appeared. He placed both wands back on the desk and looked over his half-moon glasses. "Your quick reflexes and resolute decisions helped you carry the day, Harry. Something you said bothered me, please repeat what you said about attacks all year?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry answered in a small voice. He hadn't been thinking about what he was saying as he was replaying the night in his head. "What did I say? Sorry," he added a little lamely.

"You said you'd been under constant attack since you first entered the Hogwarts Express, which is why you were more on edge than normal," Dumbledore prompted with narrowed eyes.

"Ah, uh, well not constant," Harry hedged with a shrug. "Malfoy, his friends, and I haven't really seen eye to eye all year."

"I believe, it is time to tell me how it has escalated to the point of Killing Curses, Harry," the Headmaster ordered as he peered closer at Harry.

Harry shrugged and raised his hands. "What do you want to know? As far as I'm aware, Malfoy and I don't want to kill each other."

"I would like to know many things, however I think starting with the incident on the Hogwarts Express may be a good place to start."

Harry told his story in succinct words, not sugar coating anything. He played down a lot of the incidents but didn't try to shift the blame to Malfoy or the Slytherins. If he attacked, he admitted it and if Malfoy attacked, he said so. He was hoping the Headmaster wouldn't expel him for being honest. The worry of being expelled burned in his stomach but he had the impression he couldn't lie to the aged wizard in front of him. It was the same feeling Instructor Elliot gave him. He talked about the multiple dangerous encounters since Christmas and the preventative potions and charms he'd learned.

"An interesting year," Dumbledore muttered as he looked Harry over. "Do you regret joining the magical world?"

Harry paused and thought before he spoke. "I'm not a freak here. My friends laughed at me when I told them I was having fun battling Malfoy. In many ways, I enjoyed the confrontations, even if I limped back to the common room afterward. That changed after the spells became darker, like the Severing Charms. You told me he couldn't cast the spell that burned me and I believe you. No, I don't regret it even if it's been harder and less… no I wouldn't change my decision." His stomach somersaulted at the idea of going back to Providence after learning and being at Hogwarts.

Professor Dumbledore sat back in his chair as he stroked his long beard, his eyes staring out into space. "Professor," Harry asked after a little while. "What does Imperiused mean?"

"The Imperius Curse is an Unforgivable Curse that will land whichever witch or wizard that cast it in Azkaban, our wizard prison, for life. The curse cannot be blocked by a Shield Charm and takes a powerful will and magical ability to throw off. A person under the Imperius Curse does whatever the caster orders; up to and including murder and self-harm."

Harry blinked and gasped. He'd never thought of magic taking someone's will away. "Is that what happened to Crabbe and Goyle? They attacked me because someone ordered them to?"

"It would certainly appear so," Dumbledore answered with a small frown. "The vivid green spell you saw is the Killing Curse. You are the only known witch or wizard who has survived being struck by the terrible curse."

"Why? Why did I survive when my parents didn't? Why did Voldemort come after us?" Harry questioned. He heard his voice quiver. The voice of Firenze floated around in his mind.

"Why? There are many terrible truths in the world. You may hate me for saying this, but when you are older I will explain what I know. Unfortunately, I don't know everything, but I will tell you what I do."

"When I'm older?" Harry questioned with a huff. He sat back in his chair as he looked at the Headmaster.

"Thank you for being honest. I would like to say I am not all powerful and omnipotent. I do not know everything that happens within Hogwarts. When we spoke after your attack, I challenged you to learn to protect yourself. Life has a way of providing us with the unexpected. How we deal with the unexpected sets us apart from each other. Some will run, hide from their troubles. Others stand and fight for their beliefs. Continue to learn and grow, Harry. Your mother and father would have wanted nothing less for you."

"Sir?" Harry hedged as he rose from his chair. He'd noticed the implied dismissal from the Headmaster.

"Yes, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore said as he looked up from the desk.

"Is it Voldemort? Is he really back?" Harry asked as he gripped the back of the chair.

"Voldemort never died, Harry. His power was broken, but he did not die. He is out there biding his time. My last reports say he is in Albania, but I do not believe he is here in Hogwarts." The Headmaster bowed his head and stared at the two wands on the desk.

Harry left, feeling worried and uncertain of the future.


	13. Chapter 13: Exams

**AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__. _

**Chapter 13: Exams**

Harry returned to the Gryffindor Tower after talking to Professor Dumbledore in silence. He didn't have as much confidence in the Headmaster's words about Voldemort as he wanted. Harry fell asleep shortly after climbing into bed. Ron woke Harry as he dressed to go to the Great Hall.

"You never sleep in," Ron said as he laughed. "I almost didn't realize you were even still here."

"Long night," Harry muttered as he climbed out of bed. "I've got to talk to you, Neville, and Hermione at breakfast."

Harry told his friends about his crazy night in hushed voices at the Gryffindor table. He caught Malfoy's red eyes as he sat down. The blonde boy's face looked pale and drawn, as if he hadn't slept. Crabbe and Goyle weren't at the Slytherin table.

"But what does it mean? Something hidden in the castle to reverse the curse of a half-life?" Ron muttered.

"No idea, but I don't really care about whatever Voldemort wants," Harry answered and watched his friends wince. "I want to focus on my exams." He didn't want to tell his friends how much the thought of his parents killer being at Hogwarts bothered him.

"Good for you, Harry," Hermione said with a wide smile. "Showing some sense after all."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. He jabbed his spoon at his friend and grinned. "So you expect to take top marks?" he questioned with a smirk.

"You'd better believe it," Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. "You think with your abysmal grades in History of Magic, you could ever beat me?!"

Ron and Neville snorted into their plates. "If Harry has abysmal grades, what do we have then?" he asked with a glare.

"Trolls, the lot of you," Hermione answered as she turned her nose up.

Harry burst out laughing while Ron looked offended. "To her, Ron, we may as well be trolls," he grinned and patted his friend on his back. "Don't let it get you down, we can beat our chests and roar at the injustice of it all," he joked.

Neville rolled his eyes and went back to eating. Ron muttered under his breath and went back to his food. "I have schedules for you all to study from," Hermione interrupted the silence as she dug around in her bag.

Ron looked up and gave Hermione another baleful look. "What would we need those for?" he asked, attacking his food with his fork.

"So you can study optimally for your exams. You wouldn't want to disappoint your mother, would you?"

Ron shuddered and dropped his fork. "I was hungry, now I'm not," he muttered. "Why did you have to go and bring my mother into this?" he wondered and sat back with his arms crossed.

Neville muttered about his grandmother writing to him about his grades as well. "Cheer up, Neville. You'll at least make top marks in Herbology. Your charm work is good too," Harry said with a grin. "Potions, well… we can work on that."

Under Hermione's strict regimen, the four friends started their exam studies. Ron complained and used any excuse to escape the review session, but Neville tried to soak up all the information he could. Harry sat back and watched how far the young boy had come. He felt a little guilty for deciding to befriend Neville because of how much the round-faced boy looked like Frankie. As he watched Neville, he saw little of the scared and lonely boy he'd seen at the start of the year.

"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar voice called from the door. "But we need to borrow Harry," another voice chorused.

Harry looked up from their study session in their appropriated classroom and raised his eyebrow at the twins. "What's up?" he asked as he drew closer.

"Our game is tomorrow and we don't have time to watch after ickleronniekins," one twin said with a grimace.

"We found him in the forbidden corridor on the third-floor. Looking around," the other twin said as he air-quoted. Both twins shook their heads at the same time. "We know about the three-headed dog behind the door and don't want our brother to be breakfast."

Harry froze and looked between the twins. "Excuse me? A three-headed dog? On the third-floor corridor?"

"Yup, saw him, or rather it, a couple weeks into the term. Almost bit Fred's arm off it did," George grinned. He pantomimed flailing his left arm around as Fred grinned.

The image of Hagrid popped into Harry's head as he looked between the twins. He grimaced and shrugged. He now knew where the gamekeeper kept Fluffy. His thought process continued as he remembered his last interaction Hagrid and the secret hidden in the castle. "Are you guys going to win the next game?" he questioned as a way to distract himself.

"We always win, we're Beaters!" the twins chorused. "Ron went back to the common room, do you mind sitting with him?"

"No problem," Harry said with a smile. After the twins left, Hermione finished her one-on-one session with Neville. Harry explained what the twins needed. Hermione pursed her lips but packed her bags up. After moving to the common room, the four friends relaxed into the night. Hermione read by the fire, Neville played a game of exploding snap with a couple older Gryffindors, and Ron and Harry played wizard chess.

**XXXXX**

"What do you think our chances of Ward getting the Snitch are?" Harry asked as he looked over the railing toward the Gryffindor Quidditch Team walking out onto the field.

"Pretty good, he is trying at least," Ron answered as he waved a "Gryffindor Wins!" flag over his head.

Hermione flipped through her flashcards as they waited for the game to begin. Harry itched to pull out the cards hidden in his robes but didn't want Ron to yell at him for studying during Quidditch time as he called it. He laughed to himself when he realized how well Hermione would have done at Providence. Harry enjoyed all his subjects, even History of Magic when he wasn't sitting in one of Professor Binns' lectures, but he struggled to remain focused when he had his own projects and interests he'd rather be spending his time on.

His recent nightmares about being expelled for poor marks curbed his desire to work on other projects with exams coming up. When he fell asleep, he would find himself sitting in a large classroom filled with desks. Gray and black shapes made up the other students as they took the exam in front of them. Every time Harry tried to answer a question, his quill would break or the ink wouldn't write. A high cruel laugh echoed around the room as Voldemort told him that he failed and would be sent back to Providence for the rest of his life.

"The Gryffindor Team enters the pitch!" Lee announced, his voice booming around the entire stadium. "We're expecting great things from this match. Ravenclaw Captain, Hughes, has worked tirelessly to train his Chasers and Beaters for this match. Wood has spent a lot of his time with his team, focusing on their teamwork and coordination. Madam Hooch enters the field!"

Harry sat back and watched the game. The Gryffindor Chasers fought for every goal against the Ravenclaw team. The opposing Beaters, Reed and Walsh, tried to play off each other when sending Bludgers at the Gryffindor Chasers. Angelina had a close call and had to pass it to Katie, losing their chance to shoot on goal. Burke defended his three rings with a fierce passion.

"One Weasley sent a Bludger to knock Ellis off course, Bell takes the Quaffle. Bell to Spinnet, Spinnet to Johnson. Johnson shoot and … aw, missed. Well caught Burke. Burke to Hughes as he flies up the field. Reed sends a Bludger at the chasing Bell but misses. Bell and Angelina Body Blow Hughes and Bell takes the Quaffle."

Harry sat on the edge of his seat as he watched the game with his heart pounding in his throat. He'd developed a deep respect for the Chaser position. Ron drug him to as many pick-up games as he could. Harry played as a Chaser with two other Hufflepuff boys. Ron played as a Keeper. Harry had a blast as he checked, dove, rolled, and blocked the other team comprised of mostly Hufflepuffs. His multiple bruises made him grin and think of the many field exercises at Providence.

"Katie is probably our best flier," Harry commented as he watched her dodge around two Ravenclaws.

"Angelina is our best muscle though," Ron countered with a grin. "Even those Slytherins hated going against her."

"Alicia controls the Quaffle well and rarely tries to take shots. She's a perfect interference and support," Harry said with a nod. "She is always in the right place at the right time to assist both Katie and Angelina."

Everyone groaned as Hughes got the Quaffle past Wood, bringing the score to fifty versus thirty. Gryffindor was ahead, but not by much. Harry looked to the sky as Casper Ward flew past. He'd ignored the Seekers during the game. Ward and Deans were sticking close to each other and playing mind games as they searched for the Snitch. Deans would rocket off in one direction, making Ward chase him before pulling off and laughing. Ward would return the favor minutes later by making his own feint.

The game dragged on as both teams fought for points on the board. Gryffindor needed two-hundred and eighty points to win the cup. Ward knew that and tried to delay finding the Snitch for as long as possible to allow the Chasers to put more points on the board.

"Gryffindor eighty to Ravenclaw ninety," Lee announced from the commentator's box. "Hughes puts another away for the Ravenclaw team. Deans is diving fast with Ward right behind him!"

Harry looked up and felt his heart drop. "The Snitch," he gasped as he pointed to a spot above the ground. Dean had seen it first and dove to get it first.

"Oh, no! It's too early in the match!" Ron cried as he jumped up. "Throw him off his broom, Ward!" Ron yelled at the top of his lungs.

"He won't have the chance. The Snitch's noticed them and is trying to get away," Harry said as he pointed to the little golden ball. "Ward will be lucky to get the Snitch at all."

The two Seekers fought for speed as they plummeted to the earth. Deans remained in the lead as they drew closer to the ground. Harry's heart dropped as he watched the two players. "It will come down to who pulls up first," he guessed.

"What?" Ron yelled over the noise.

"The angle is wrong for their decent. They have to pull up or hit the ground. Whoever gets the Snitch first is the one that waits the longest to pull up and DOESN'T hit the ground."

Deans pulled up as he drew level with the stands, angling toward the escaping Snitch. Ward dropped lower before pulling up. Harry's heart hammered in his chest as he watched the Gryffindor Seeker fight for control of his broom. At the last moment, Ward got his broom under control and evened out his descent feet above the hard ground. The risky maneuver brought him closer to the Snitch.

"He's going to have to take it," Harry shouted as he watched the two Seekers fight for dominance. The banged against each other and knocked the other's outstretched hands out of the way as they tried to catch the golden ball.

"Ward gets the Snitch! Gryffindors win!" Lee announced as the two Seekers peeled away. Deans looked livid and Ward triumphant.

"We lost the cup," Ron moaned into his hands. Hermione patted his back while rolling her eyes.

"It was a long shot," Harry said with a shrug and clapped for the Gryffindor Team.

The party in the common room lasted for hours. Harry enjoyed himself as the whole House attended. The exams were in two weeks and everyone wanted a reason to vent their stress. Hermione joined in a few games of exploding snap before retiring to her dormitory. Neville went to bed early while Ron and Harry stayed up with Fred and George.

Once Ron went to bed, Harry pulled the twins aside. "I have a surprise for you," he said with a grin.

The twins shared a look and raised their eyebrows at Harry. "What have you got for us?" they chorused.

Harry fought to keep a grin off his face as he pulled a small tube of parchment from his robes. He'd been itching to show off his work to the twins for days, but hadn't wanted to distract them from their Quidditch match. "Here you are," he offered and passed them his completed project.

"Is this..." Fred said with a gasp. "What we think it is?" George finished and took the offered firecracker.

"I believe it might impress you," Harry said as he felt the corners of his lips tug upward. His heart hammered harder than it had at the Quidditch match as the twins took his hard work with reverence.

"We thought you'd given up," Fred said as he took the firecracker from George's hand. They put their heads together to inspect Harry's work. "It looks a lot like Zonok's work," George said with narrowed eyes.

"Just give it a shot," Harry muttered, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. He'd done some testing but not enough to suit him. One in three fireworks still had problems going off like he wanted it to.

Fred opened the window in one of the alcoves and touched his wand to the small cord at the back of the firework. Once lit, he threw the firecracker as far as he could. They waited as the small object disappeared into the night. "Well, that..." George started after a moment but got interrupted by a loud crack.

From mid-air, the firecracker went off. Red and green sparks shot into the dark sky before exploding in a brilliant shower of white light. It lit up the entire tower and some of the ground below. Fred slammed the window shut and pulled Harry along behind him. George was faster than both of them and made it to the dormitory doors before Fred or Harry. They rushed down the stairs. "Toss any more of them you might have," Fred whispered as the three of them entered the second-year dormitory.

Harry rummaged in his cloak and pulled out his other two fireworks. He didn't miss the look of greed in the twins' eyes as he opened the window and tossed them out. Professor McGonagall appeared in the common room minutes later and ordered Fred and George to turn out their pockets. They had a put-upon expression on their faces as they dumped the contents of their robes on the long table.

"We were already in bed, professor," George groaned as the irate professor rooted through their possessions.

"Harry, you as well," she ordered, pointing at the table. Harry fought to keep a straight face as his emptied his pockets. He felt a little upset for the twins when he realized most of the blame was always placed on them for any mischief. With a laugh, he realized most of the mischief in the castle was caused by the twins.

Professor McGonagall released them after inspecting their pockets and sent them all to bed. Fred, George, and Harry did nothing of the sort. Harry sat in their room, explaining how he'd stumbled upon the combination of words to create his fireworks spell. The twins got a sheet of parchment and had Harry recreate his process. With a wide grin, Harry set to work casting the spell he'd created.

"Start with the tube, it is important. Remember the spell to protect paper? Papyrservus? I used that to protect the parchment from any fire damage. I used the Severing Charm to create the string for the fuse and the Sticking Charms to affix it to the two strips of parchment that will hold the spell. Once the parchment burns, the charm will release."

Harry took two slips of parchment he cut with the Severing Charm and pointed his wand at it. "Caelum Igniculusvaria," he invoked and watched the parchment turn red. He preformed the same incantation again on the other piece and watched it turn green. "It roughly means sky sparks variant. I used the Colour Changing Charm as a base and read up on how the Red Sparks Spell works. It took forever, but I got it to work. The problem is, there are a lot of spells involved and I sometimes mess up making the entire firework. Only one in three work for me. Maybe you guys can come up with something better."

"Harry this is brilliant!" Fred gasped as he took the green parchment. George took the red one and peered at it. "We didn't think about protecting the paper. Does the tube get destroyed as well? George questioned as he picked up the tube with the piece of parchment sticking out the back.

"So far no, the tube is left. I ran into issues with the spells if they didn't have a direction to shoot off in. It works like a cannon barrel to direct the charms," Harry answered with a shrug.

The twins thanked him and promised to have something for him by the end of the term. With a laugh, Harry left for his dormitory and headed to bed.

Ron was a nervous wreck after his family's owl appeared at breakfast one morning. Errol crashed into the Gryffindor table and overturned a bowl of pudding. Ron, red-faced, took the letter in his beak before setting the old bird to rights. Errol stayed with them through breakfast until it gathered enough strength to fly home. The blood drained from Ron's face when he got around to reading the letter before their first class.

"Mom sent the ruddy bird," Ron muttered darkly as he scanned through the letter. "Oh… oh no… she wants good marks for our exams or… or she'll lock up the brooms until mid-summer."

Fred and George looked amused as they patted their younger brother on the back. "You'd better get studying then if you want to play Quidditch this summer," Fred said with a laugh. "Yeah, otherwise she'll have you de-gnoming the garden all summer," George finished with a fierce grin.

Harry watched, bemused as Ron's face turned an unhealthy shade of gray. "Want some of Hermione's study notes?" he asked. His bushy-haired friend could make a coursebook out of all her detailed notes. He felt torn between being impressed and envious of her dedication.

"Uh, Hermione, could I, uh, look over some of your notes?" Ron stumbled as he turned to Hermione. The group knew about the row Ron and Hermione had the previous day as she tried to help Ron with his review. When Hermione didn't respond, Ron fidgeted on the bench. "I'm, uh, sorry I yelled at you the other day. I'd like to get better marks."

Harry noticed the look on Hermione's face and tried to keep his expressionless. His friend was smiling under her bushy hair but was messing with Ron. Neville saw the same thing because he coughed and looked toward the other end of the table. Ron muttered his pleas, becoming more desperate before Hermione relented. "Oh, fine, I guess you can look at them," she said with a great sigh. It took all of Harry's willpower not to laugh.

The four friends studied together in the library, common room, and classroom as they crammed for the exams. Harry's mood dropped when he realized he would return to a lonely summer at various hotels and an even longer bout of loneliness if he got thrown out of Hogwarts. He didn't express his worries and instead focused on studying the various Goblin Rebellions that plagued the wizarding world.

Rationally, he knew he was ahead of his class, but it didn't stop his fears or nightmares. His worry about Voldemort and the dead unicorns manifested themselves in his dreams as well. The image of a dark figure with a high, cruel laugh would slay a unicorn and turn to Harry before telling him he was next. He knew his nightmares were affecting his concentration and fueling his fear of failing further.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" Hermione asked as she sat in the fluffy chair beside him. His transfiguration had improved to the point he no longer had to use Cushioning Charms on the chairs in the classroom.

"Mm, yeah," Harry lied with a smile. "Just thinking about these exams."

"Ooh, yeah, I know what you mean," Hermione consoled with a nod. She told him all of her worries about not getting good marks, her desire to do something for the wizarding world after she left Hogwarts, and her nightmares about disappointing her teachers.

Harry smiled and patted his friend on the back. "I'm not sure you're helping," he said with a small grin. "If YOU'RE scared about these exams, then I should be terrified. You know this material in and out. If I didn't miss something, you've also been working on next year's coursework too."

Hermione blushed and stomped her foot. "I'm not confident though," she cried. "I think I know the material, but what questions are they going to ask?!"

"Take a deep breath, it always works for me. You can only plan for so much. Let's go back over Switching Spells," Harry offered as he opened his Transfiguration book.

The professors were of the same mind as Hermione about review. They gave lengthy assignments and required a minimum of twelve inches to complete the assignment. The older Gryffindor students who would sit their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were a nervous wreck. One girl had a panic attack in the common room. She cried hysterically until her friend cast a Cheering Charm on her. They went to the Hospital Wing to get a Draught of Dreamless Sleep from Madam Pomfrey. Harry was glad Hermione hadn't seen the incident. She gave herself enough stress without worrying about the future.

"Next Wednesday, you will sit for your Potion's exam. That Friday, you will brew your potions to conclude the practical portion. I expect many Poor and Dreadfuls from this lot," Snape sneered as he wrapped up his class. "This may be your first-year but it is the most important year as it covers the majority of the ingredients you will use during your studies. While some of you show an aptitude for potion making," his eyes roamed over the students and his sneer became larger," others of you have no hope. Read your books, pray to whoever you think might listen, but know this, I will accept no one who doesn't pass Potions with an Exceeds Expectations into my N.E.W.T. class. Dismissed."

The students filled out of the class. Many were muttering about the Potion Master's words under their breaths. Harry caught Crabbe and Goyle's eye as they passed. Their normal, confused but aware, looks were back on their faces. They'd been released from the Hospital Wing a day after the incident and had been fine ever since, but Harry still watched their eyes whenever he passed them. "Oh, I hope I get everything right," Hermione whispered as she furiously flipped through the flashcards in her trembling hands. Harry made a mental note to learn the Cheering Charm in case Hermione needed it one day. He wished someone would use it on him.

Professor McGonagall gave out the exam schedule at breakfast the next morning. "Written exams at nine before each of the practical ones, except for Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and Astronomy. Potions and Herbology on Wednesday and Transfiguration and Astronomy on Thursday," Harry muttered as he looked over the parchment. "Charms on Monday, Defense on Tuesday, Herbology on Wednesday, Transfiguration at twelve-thirty on Thursday with Astronomy that night. Potions practicals are Friday with History of Magic being our last exam."

The exam schedules engrossed all the students in the Great Hall when Harry looked around. "At least we have a general idea of what to cram for," he said with a laugh. "Neville, at you've got a good exam in the middle of the week!"

Neville chucked and gave a weak smile. His hands were shaking almost as bad as Hermione's while holding the red Transfiguration flashcards. Harry had the idea to color change the cards to match the subjects, as they kept getting mixed up. "P-P-Potions will be horrible," Neville stuttered, making him sound like Professor Quirrell.

"You've got this, Neville," Harry said with a grin. "You heard Snape, it will be on a lot of the ingredients and not on the potion making itself."

"You don't know that, Harry!" Hermione snapped as she looked up from her cards. "He just said it was an important year. We could have to brew any number of potions we learned this year."

Harry grimaced and noticed the other two boys at the table did so as well. "You're right, Hermione. He didn't say it would be about the ingredients. Well, there goes my carefree afternoon," he joked as he rummaged around in his bag. He pulled out the deep green cards and set them on the table. "I've made little stories to remember each of the potions, but sometimes they make little sense," he mumbled toward the end.

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Sometimes you don't make sense so you're a match," the redhead joked and picked a card up.

"Two steps to the Lethe River to bathe in the sun. Twenty seconds to burn and add two Valerian sprigs to protect yourself. Three times around your stomach, wave your wand, and sit for fifty. Two is a Standard time to grind. Add four mistle kisses and spin round to medium-fine. Two pinches make your life better and rub backward five times to make you happy. Wave your wand and head home," Ron read with a confused look. "Blimey, what is this bollocks?" he questioned as he turned over the card. "The Forgetfulness Potion? How?" He turned the card back over and reread the story.

"Brilliant, Harry!" Hermione said as she grabbed another card off his pile. "My crush, my Flitterfly, we were once pulp. Add you to my heart and spin it around. Green is the color of envy as I grind the Bouncing Bulb. Backward until I'm red in the face. Sliced Foxglove makes for fine dining. Stir until I'm orange with sickness and wave," she read and paused for a few seconds. "Pompion Potion," she announced and flipped over the card. "Oh, this is brilliant. I may make my own with different… more thought out stories."

"Hey!" Harry cried, indignant at her comment. "I spent a whole three minutes thinking of that story."

"It shows, mate," Ron muttered as he read another card.

"Make it about Quidditch or something so you can remember, Ron. I just happen to do a lot of mine off a beach trip I once took with Providence."

"Quidditch? How does Quidditch have anything to do with potion making?" Ron asked, his face turned up.

Harry thought for a moment and pointed to the card in Hermione's hand. "One feint to pulp the Flitterby. Clockwise spin your broom to make the others green with envy. Bouncing Bulbs are less dangerous than Bludgers when ground. Counter spin to dodge a red-faced player. Slice back and forth as the Foxglove goes for the Quaffle. Another Clockwise spin to dodge the orange Keeper and wave your wand to win." He finished with a grin as his friends all laughed at his story.

"That was pretty good," Neville said with a grin. "I might do something like that but use Herbology instead."

"Harry, do you have a moment?" Hermione asked as she tugged on his robes.

Harry turned to see his friend biting her lip and pointing to an alcove in the common room. He nodded and sat on the empty bench under the window. "What's up, Hermione?" he asked, trying to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy cushion.

Hermione stared at him for a minute before answering. "Harry, why do you play it off as you don't know as much around me?" she questioned. She looked confused and hurt.

"What?!" Harry asked but felt hit chest tighten.

"You heard me, why do you play it off as you don't know the answers. You pretended to not know the answer when Ron and Neville were studying earlier. No less than eleven times. Why?" Hermione asked in a stronger voice.

"Hermione," Harry tried to get out but got interrupted.

"Don't lie, Harry. I've noticed it for a long time. You had most of the books memorized before you got to Hogwarts didn't you?"

"Hermione, why?" he tried again.

"You act like an idiot with Ron, tutor and go to great lengths to support Neville, act up and prank people with Fred and George, and you let me look like I'm smarter than I am," Hermione continued as she pointed at him. "I'm not an idiot, Harry. Why are you doing this?"

Harry winced and watched his friend. He was afraid of what she would say if she knew the truth. "You aren't an idiot, Hermione. You're the smartest witch in the school," he tried and got hit on the arm for his attempt.

"Don't try to change the subject. Why have you been acting like this all year?" she paused and Harry watched her eyes glaze over. "You didn't act that way when you were attacked. You were quiet, aloof, and assertive to what you wanted to do. Is that the real you?" she asked as her eyes refocused on Harry's.

Harry tried not to wince at her words. He breathed out, hoping he was making the right decision. "Let me finish before you interrupt me, please," he said and tried not to laugh at her reddening face. "I am really me with all four of you. Ron is a mate to have fun with and do sports with. Neville is," he started and trailed trying to find the words. "Neville reminded me of an old friend who I wasn't there for when he needed me. I enjoy talking and hanging out with Neville. Fred and George remind me of two friends at Providence that I got into my fair share of trouble with. I hated the school and wanted to get thrown out. With you… with you, I don't want to lose your friendship. You're smart and competitive. Smarter than me by far," Harry finished with a shrug. He tried to hide his discomfort by shifting his body away from his friend.

"Harry, I didn't realize that. I enjoy our disagreements about how magic works more than being right all the time. You ask questions I never thought to ask myself. Please don't make me feel good about myself if you know the answer faster. Yes, I'm competitive about learning magic, I want to be good and want to learn as much as I can. I think you are the same way. You made Fred and George's new fireworks didn't you?" she questioned with a smirk.

Harry started and looked back at his friend. "Uh, maybe?" he hedged.

"Don't maybe, me, Harry. I heard Angelina talk about it. Harry, it's things like that I want to know. I've just finished learning, or trying to learn really, Latin and the book you let me borrow. Can we discuss how you made the spell?"

Harry nodded, taking any chance to get off the awkward subject. He and Hermione's friendship seemed to grow stronger as the exams drew closer. While tutoring Ron and Neville with Hermione, he still kept quiet but less so than he had before, trying not to make the two boys who didn't know as much feel bad. While with Hermione in the library, they discussed deeper and more advanced topics of Charms and Transfiguration as they quizzed each other on harder and harder questions to prepare for the exams.

The rest of the week passed in a flash of school work and nerves. Harry and Hermione pulled and coerced Ron into the library more often than he wanted. Neville fell asleep on one of his books the day before the exams started. He was confident in doing well in the exams now. Harry tried to ignore the growing bundle of nerves in his stomach, not from the exams but what would happen after. He knew in his heart Hogwarts had been the best year of his life and didn't want it to end. Harry got little sleep the last few nights before the exams because of nightmares. In his dreams, he kept waking up back in the Providence dormitory only to discover it had all been a dream.

They took the written part of the tests in a large, sweltering classroom in the middle of the castle. All the first-year students sat the written exams at the same time for the same subjects. They gave all the students quills which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating Charm. There was no talking during the two hours allotted for the test.

Professor Flitwick asked all of his students to wait outside the classroom until he called them in one by one. Neville happened to go first. The round-faced boy stumbled in the classroom, his wobbling legs somehow supporting him. Harry wondered if a Jelly-Legs Jinx had hit his friend when he hadn't been looking.

Ten minutes later, Neville exited the class with a worried expression on his face. "I don't know if I did it correctly," he muttered as he closed the door behind him. "Professor Flitwick doesn't want us to know the test," he said with a sad smile. "It isn't too hard though," he added with a grin.

Harry went in after Hermione, who beamed as she exited the classroom. Professor Flitwick stood atop his perch of books. "Harry! Hermione impressed me. Let's see if you can too," he squeaked and bounced on the balls of his feet.

"I'll do my best, professor," Harry answered and drew his wand.

"Keep this a secret, but everyone else needed to make a pineapple dance across the desk. You and Hermione made a desk dance across the classroom to get into the Charms Club. I can't use that for your final exam, however, if you could show me something to show off your progress..." the professor hinted with a wide grin.

Harry hummed as he looked around the classroom. "Am I limited to just Charms? Or, can I use a little Transfiguration as well?" he asked as an idea formed in his head.

"Harry, you may use whatever your heart desires. I just wish to see what you've learned," Professor Flitwick answered with a sparkle in his eye.

Harry nodded and set to work. He took out a piece of parchment and began to mutter and wave his wand back and forth. After five minutes, he looked up and grinned at Professor Flitwick. "Sorry it took so long, professor. I wanted to do something a little… more," he said with a small laugh. "It may, uh, get a little loud."

"I'll take the necessary precautions," the small wizard said and waved his wand at the door. "When you are ready, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath and began his demonstration. With a flick of his wand, two small paper knights sprang to life. One knight was red and yellow while his opponent was green and silver. The horses charged at one another, the knights on the horses lowering long lances. Harry held his breath as he hoped everything would work right. The two knights collided, their lances piercing through their paper bodies. Both knights seemed to dissolve and rocket upward. The two bright streaks hit the ceiling of the classroom and exploded in a shower of red and green sparks. Harry let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Well done! Well done!" Professor Flitwick cried as he clapped and fell off his perch.

"How do you think you did?" Harry asked Hermione who was muttering to herself as she poured over her Charms coursebook.

"Oh, I know I must have messed up on two of the questions. I put fourteen fifty-five for the year the Levitation Charm was invented. Hobart invented it in fifteen forty-four. I don't know if I spelled Delfina Crimp's name right on the last question. Oh, Harry, I'm so worried," she wailed as she flipped through the pages.

"Relax, what's done is done. Start looking at Defense Against the Dark Arts material tonight. If it makes you feel better, we have a week after the exams to go back over whatever we got wrong," Harry consoled with a small smile. He cut the stack of black flashcards and passed it over to Hermione.

Harry's scar and head throbbed through his Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam. While he performed the spells correctly, he didn't think he got top marks. His Knockback Jinx shattered the legs of the desk he tried to push back. A stabbing pain shot through his head as he cast the spell. He mended it and levitated the desk back to where it was originally, but he saw a peculiar look in Professor Quirrell's eyes. In Harry's opinion, the rest of the spells he performed went well.

In Herbology they classified each of the plants and fungi, ingredients, and magical properties they'd gone over during the year. He knew he got good marks on the written and practical portions of the exam. The Fire-Making Spell subdued his mature Bouncing Bulb with ease. With Neville's help and enthusiasm, he felt confident about his answers on the written portion. The Potions written exam was exhausting. He wracked his brain and muttered under his breath as he recited the short stories that went along with each of the potions. Many of the questions hinted obscure facts about a particular ingredient he was to write a summary on. All the questions on ingredients required him to answer when it was discovered, or a close approximation, what effects the ingredient has in potions, and how each ingredient could be prepared.

"I think the easiest question had to be the twelve uses of Dragon's Blood," Harry complained as he plopped down in the common room chair by the fire. "Even that question was hard as we had to give why it was used and how it could be used."

Ron groaned and clapped his hands over his ears. "I don't want to talk about exams!" he shouted. Two other Gryffindors yelled their agreement. A chorus of "bugger the exams" broke out among many of the Gryffindors. Harry laughed while Hermione looked horrified.

Neville looked morose as he slid further into his chair. "Gran is going to murder me," he mumbled into his cupped hands.

"She'll be proud of your Herbology marks. Cheer up, only six more exams to go!" Harry said and got pelted with pillows from every direction for his efforts.

"Bugger the exams!" someone cried and threw another pillow at him for emphasis.

Harry thought the Transfiguration and Astronomy written exams were the easiest ones he'd taken so far. He read over the questions and his answers multiple times before turning the test in. His stomach felt like a lead weight dropped in it when he looked at Ron's contorted face as he stared at his exam. Professor McGonagall had them turn a mouse into a snuffbox. He got a rare smile for his snuffbox. His small cherry decorative box had the Hogwarts Seal, complete with school motto, on the lid surrounded by symbols of his favorite classes. The inside of the box had a red velvet cloth and gold inlay around the lid. He spotted a few rough areas, but was overall happy with his work.

"You will have two hours to brew a Forgetfulness Potion from memory, begin," Snape announced as he swept into the classroom. Harry fought a grin as he hummed the story to himself. He spotted Neville and was glad to see his friend with a hopeful expression on his face. Everyone's expressions turned sour when Snape walked around and breathed down their necks to inspect their progress. Harry ignored the Potion Master. He ground his teeth when he noticed the effect Snape had on Neville's concentration.

History of Magic gave Harry as much a headache as the Potions written exam had. He spent the entire allotted time to complete his answers and still felt like he could have added more if he could remember more about the various events through history. Much of the exam had been about many Goblin Rebellions, but some were about specific Ministers of Magic of note.

"At least we're free," Ron said with a sigh as the four friends lay in the sun on the lawn.

Harry felt relieved all the exams were over. Hermione read her History of Magic book and muttered to herself. Neville had fallen asleep minutes after laying down.

"Harry?" a voice called from behind the group.

Harry turned and noticed a smiling Gryffindor third-year. Sara Goldwell looked pale in the bright light of the sun. "Yes?" he asked and stood.

"I have a letter for you," Sara said and passed him a heavy envelope. "Hope you did well on your exams," she called as she headed back toward the castle.

"You too!" Harry called and turned the letter over. It had no markings on it and was sealed with a red wax. A strange symbol was used to seal the wax. It looked like a faceless head with four legs or tentacles. He popped the seal with a finger and fished out the parchment inside.

Mr. Potter,

I have discovered who your attacker was. I will be grading course papers in my office after seven tonight. Please stop by so I may inform you how we will proceed. Enclosed is a list of spells, curses, and jinxes I learned during my time at Hogwarts. It may help you if ever you are in trouble.

Sincerely,

Professor Quirinus Quirrell

"That's nice of him," Harry muttered as he pulled out the second parchment. A short list of words in Latin were scrawled on the parchment. None of the spells had descriptions. Apart from the words, nothing else was on the page. He turned it over, thinking there might be more on the back. "Weird," he muttered and shoved the letter and list back in the envelope.

His friends were excited to hear the professors learned who'd attacked him. Ron joked it was Snape but Harry shook his head. "It wasn't Snape, I confronted him one day a while ago. He was angry, not like, oh you caught me angry, but angry-angry, like I accused him of being a Death Eater."

Ron and Neville laughed. Ron threw out a few more names before Hermione cut him off. "Harry will learn whoever attacked him tonight. Stop accusing random people. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't curse Harry just to feed him awful tasting potions," she chastised with a frown. "Where did you even come up with that theory?"

Ron shrugged and changed the subject. "What is everyone's plans for the summer?"

Harry's spirits dropped as he looked away from his friends and toward the lake. He'd been trying to ignore the fact the term had ended and tried to console himself with the fact they wouldn't expel him for bad marks and he could return in a few months. A few lonely months.

He remained quiet as his friends talked about their summer plans. He smiled, nodded, and joked but his heart wasn't in it. "Oh, Harry, Mum wrote the other day and said Professor Dumbledore asked if she was interested in having you visit," Ron said as he sat up.

"He did?" Harry asked, trying to hide his excitement.

"Yeah, something about spending a week or two at the Burrow. You didn't know? Mum made it seem like you asked the Headmaster to ask for you. He is your magical guardian you know."

"He is?" Harry asked, puzzled as to why Professor Dumbledore was his guardian.

"Sure, everyone knows it. The-Boy-Who-Lived is the legal son of the greatest wizard of the age. I think Dad read it to us from a book years ago," Ron mumbled as he scrunched up his face.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "I picked one of those books up at Flourish and Blotts. Utter rubbish. There is no way, at the age of three, I saved a phoenix from an evil curse in Wales. At three, I was lucky to not fall over my own feet. I think anyway, I can't remember much when I was that young."

"Oh, huh," Ron laughed and shrugged. "Not everything in books is true anyway."

Hermione grumbled under her breath as she looked up from her book. "Actually, Harry, Ron is right. Professor Dumbledore is your legal guardian. It was published in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Modern Magical History_," she said with a pointed look at Ron.

"Really?" Harry marveled and shrugged. "Good to know I guess."

Harry played a game of chess with Ron as Hermione went over the questions to the exams. She compiled a list at Harry's request so they could go over it together later. He would not turn down her help, especially if she did all the hard work. Ron beat him after a close game. After dinner, they waited in the common room until it was time for Harry to meet Professor Quirrell.

"We'll be here when you get back, we want to know who attacked you," Ron said as he sat back in his chair, a Chocolate Frog without its head dangling from his hand.

"I'll finish the last bit of History of Magic so we can go over it tonight or tomorrow, Harry," Hermione offered with a grin.

They'd asked to come with him, but he turned them down, not knowing if it would be okay for them to come too. He promised to tell them whatever he learned. "I'll see you in a bit," he called as he left the common room.

"Harry, where are you headed to so late? It is curfew in an hour," Professor McGonagall questioned as she passed him in the corridor.

"Professor Quirrell wrote that they figured out who attacked me. I'm going to meet him and then go right back to the common room, promise," he answered. He glanced down the corridor and bit his lip. The last thing he wanted to do was be late.

"He did, did he?" Professor McGonagall said with a frown. "Be sure you are back in the tower before curfew." She briskly walked away. He grinned and ran to meet Professor Quirrell.

"Professor?" Harry called as he pushed the door open to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The door had been ajar and he thought he could hear two people talking.

"One moment, Harry," a voice called from deeper in the classroom.

Harry entered and looked around the darkened room. Two torches burned low near the door but all the other torches were out. The small ribbons of light played across the wall near the ceiling across from the open window. He waited by the door, unsure if he should intrude further. His head started to pound in low pulses.

"H-H-Harry, please come take a s-s-seat," Professor Quirrell called as he appeared from a side door near the back of the room. Harry knew it to be the professor's office.

As he sat in the chair opposite the teacher's desk, Professor Quirrell spoke. "Did you tell anyone you'd be meeting me tonight?"

Harry frowned and adjusted his chair. "Just my friends," he answered and looked up. "Who did it, professor? Who attacked me?" he asked. He heard the hard edge to his voice and winced.

"Angry are we, Potter?" the professor asked and leaned back in his chair.

Something nagged at Harry, a little voice in his head saying something was off. "Hey, you aren't stuttering," he said after a moment.

"Very good, your power of observation hasn't failed you. I'm hurt you didn't try any of my spells. I worked so hard on those for you," Professor Quirrell said with a small, hard laugh.

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck rose and his scar throbbed with pain. "What is going on?" he asked. He frowned and clutched his wand under his robes.

A terrible smile stretched the Defense Against the Dark Art's professor's face. "We were going to discuss who attacked you, Harry Potter," a cold, muffled voice said from behind Professor Quirrell.


	14. Chapter 14: Choice

**AN:**_ I do not own Harry Potter, __that honor goes to J. K. Rowling__. _

**Chapter 14: Choice**

Harry felt his scar burn in response to the cold voice. He felt his fingers hurt as he gripped his wand tighter. "Professor?" he questioned as he prepared to curse Quirrell.

"Now, now, Potter," Professor Quirrell cautioned and sat back farther in his chair. The tip of a wand appeared above the table top, aimed at Harry.

Harry froze and gritted his teeth. "You attacked me, professor," he spat as he started to put the clues together. "You've faked your stutter all year and pointed me at Snape and the Slytherins in the first place. That is how you knew where to find me after I was attacked, you cast the spell."

A cold smile greeted his answer. "Smart, Potter," Quirrell murmured. "I wanted your eyes on the Slytherins and away from poor stuttering Professor Quirrell. I have never been an accomplished dueler. You surprised me a great many times by your quick reactions and athletic skill in the narrow corridors. My Master was most displeased with me on multiple occasions. It can be hard to serve my Master," he said in a soft voice.

"DO NOT MOVE, Potter," the professor ordered with narrowed eyes. "Place your wand on the desk. I will know if you try to attack me. At this range, I can't miss."

Harry narrowed his eyes and complied in slow motions. After placing his wand on the desk, Quirrell told him to scoot his chair back farther. The professor watched with a satisfied look on his face. "Good, good, now where was I?"

"You were meant to die many times this year, Master ordered it. When my spell finally caught you in the corridor, you somehow managed to live. The last spell on the paper I gave you was the very spell you should have died to. The others… well… we wouldn't be talking now if you'd tried them," Quirrell said with a malicious grin. "After your incident in the forest with my Imperiused pawns, your survival became necessary to my Master's plans. You see Dumbledore hid something in the school, given to him for safekeeping. The stone that would give my Master eternal life. With his instruction, we completed the tasks Dumbledore had a few of us teachers devise. Simple, yet effective enchantments and tests. However, when we got to the end, I couldn't get the stone. Master then decided on a different approach, you."

Harry listened and tried to connect the dots. "Eternal life?" he questioned as things fell into place. "Nicholas Flamel, Professor Dumbledore's friend, created the Philosopher's Stone. It is rumored to provide eternal life to its drinker. Hagrid must have taken it from the vault and you tried to steal it from Gringotts. You were the one who broke in!"

"Very good, very good," Quirrell seemed amused. "It will take a few minutes for the next part of the plan to unfold, so please continue telling me what I already know."

Not listening, Harry focused on his train of thought. "Imperiused pawns must have been Crabbe and Goyle. Wait, there was a Slytherin boy who had the same blank faced look and the Ravenclaw boy as well," he guessed as his mind spiraled. "You were going to use them to kill me, put the blame on them, and no one would have known differently."

"I have never been as powerful as my Master. He scolded me and punished me for my incomplete Imperius curses. Go on," the professor said with a dark look in his eye.

"Your Master is Voldemort," Harry declared with a scowl. "I saw him in the forest… wait that was you!"

Quirrell laughed, a hard edge to his cackling laugh. "Yes, it was me. I couldn't kill you in the forest, but I was going to make you suffer for interrupting my Master's ritual. The blood of a unicorn is useful for more than keeping someone alive, even with the wretched curse.

"Crabbe or Goyle would have killed you, playing on your petty childhood squabbles between you and Draco Malfoy. My Master is indeed The Dark Lord and he will rise to power again. Your luck has run out. You lived ten years after you were supposed to have died, tonight I will rectify that for my Master," Quirrell finished and waved his wand.

Harry tensed, expecting something to happen. He felt relieved when nothing happened. "You said something about a next step?" he said, trying to stall for time.

"Yes, my pawn should bring your friends to the third-floor corridor. If you so much as breathe a word to them in warning. I will torture them and kill the Mudblood first. Her death will be on your hands. If you defy me, warn them in any way, then I will continue with the Blood-traitor and finally your friend Neville. Pure-blood sacrifices can be made for Master's power," Quirrell warned as he stood. "Pick up your wand, Potter. You are going on an adventure."

The professor lit his wand and took a moment to practice his stutter again. Harry slid his wand into his robes at the madman's instruction and led the way to the third-floor corridor. His heart lurched as he turned the corridor and saw four students waiting by a heavy oak door.

"Harry, Sara was telling us about a post-exam trial? I didn't realize Hogwarts gave out extra credit," Hermione gushed as she made her way to him. Ron looked bemused and annoyed at being dragged out of the tower. Neville looked lost as he looked between Harry and Professor Quirrell. "Who was it, Harry? Who attacked you?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

"The professor told me but I'll tell everyone after we do the extra credit assignment. Sorry, Ron and Neville, but the professor said there had to be four participants from each year to enter," he lied with a small shrug.

"What about Dean and Seamus?" Ron asked with a frown. "They wouldn't be able to do the extra credit then."

Harry faltered but continued with the lie. "I think they'll be paired with Lavender and Parvati," he lied and tried to keep his face blank. "The faster we get this done, the faster we can go to bed," he said with a smile. Ron nodded and Neville looked relieved. Hermione narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"C-C-Come, we'll b-b-begin the test. If at a-a-any time you feel you c-c-can't continue. Yell out and I w-w-will save you," Professor Quirrell stuttered. Harry felt a wave of loathing for the professor as his scar throbbed.

Ron tried the door and shrugged. "It's locked," he said by way of explanation. He took out his wand and pointed it at the door. "Alohomora," he said and pointed at the lock. With a click, the door opened toward Ron.

The sound of snoring filled their ears as they peered in the open door. A massive three-headed dog lay on the floor, fast asleep. At Neville's gasp, one eye on the farthest head opened slowly.

"Hagrid said Fluffy went to sleep with music, does anyone have a flute? Mine is in my trunk!" Harry cried as he stared at the massive dog waking up.

"N-n-no," Hermione and Neville stuttered at the same time.

Harry ripped off a piece of his robes and focused hard on the cloth in his hands. He tried to imagine the flute Hagrid gave him, with three little holes and the mouthpiece at the top. With a wave of his wand, he cast the closest spell he could think of to change the piece of fabric into a rough approximation of the wooden flute. The dark, ash wood flute felt light in his hand as he put it to his lips. He blew and tried to find some semblance of a tune with no practice or true idea of what he was doing.

"You've m-m-met this Cerberus?" Professor Quirrell questioned as he turned to Harry.

Harry didn't answer as he continued to try to play a tune. The now growling and snarling three-headed dog started to calm down before sinking back to the floor, its eyes drooping closed.

"That was close… and scary," Ron gasped and shuddered. "Can we pass on this extra credit?" he questioned as he turned to Harry and Hermione.

Harry shot his friend a pointed look as he continued to play and shook his head. The flute made an odd sound and caused Fluffy to grumble in its sleep. Ron asked no more questions.

"There is a trapdoor in the middle of the room," Hermione said in a quiet voice. She pointed with her wand at a sunken wooden door in the floor by one of the dog's paws.

"Can we not and say we did?" Ron muttered and pointed his wand at Fluffy as he inched closer.

Neville followed behind Ron and Hermione as he looked back at Harry, still playing the flute. Harry tried not to look his friend in the eyes, knowing his face might reveal the truth. They opened the trapdoor and poked their heads down the hatch. "It's dark," Neville said with a frown. "Lumos," he called and stuck his wand down the trapdoor. "Too far down to see anything," he said to Harry.

Harry tried to pantomime while playing the flute. His throat was getting dry and it was becoming harder to play. He used the flute to act like he was shooting something down the hatch. At their confused looks, he stopped playing the flute. "Shoot some sparks down there," he said as fast as he could and started to play again. He saw Fluffy's eyes flutter in the short time it took him to speak.

Hermione shot red sparks down the hatch with a sheepish grin. The four of them watched the light from the sparks as it hit the bottom. Something moved around in the brief moment before the light went out.

"Devil's Snare," Neville said with a smile. "It's quite soft and will cushion our fall. Use red sparks or Incendio to make the plant let you go. Try not to hurt it too much, please," he whispered as he jumped down the open hatch.

Harry watched as his friends disappeared down the trapdoor. "Well done, Potter. Quick thinking. Now, to remove the witness," Professor Quirrell said and turned to Sara. Her glassy eyes stared at them as Quirrell pointed his wand at her. "Obliviate," he cried. A green spell hit the Gryffindor girl in the face. Her eyes went wide. The professor waved his wand again, causing the girl to collapse to the floor.

Harry cried out, forgetting about the flute. "You killed her!" he accused.

"No, I can't kill every student tonight. Dumbledore has been keeping an annoyingly close watch on his pupils, you especially. Crabbe and Goyle getting caught while under the effects of my Imperius curse has made him wary. She is merely unconscious," Quirrell said and moved her still form outside the door. He closed the door behind him and locked it with a charm. Harry went back to playing his flute when he realized Fluffy was waking again. "After you, Potter," Quirrell sneered and pushed Harry into the open hole in the floor.

Harry screamed as he fell and hit something soft and wet. "Incendio," he muttered and guided his flame around him. The Devil's Snare's vines retreated from him and opened a small hole for him to slide through. He landed beside his friends. Before he could say anything, Professor Quirrell dropped to the floor beside them, his turban askew.

"This way, I suppose," Harry muttered and led the way to the only door in the lit corridor.

The door opened with no trouble to reveal a massive room with glittering specks flying around a central pillar. There were three brooms affixed to the base of the pillar. The group walked to the pillar, their wands out and pointing into the darkness. They tried the door on the other side of the room and found it locked. The Unlocking Charm did not work this time. "What are those flashing things in the air?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron looked up and squinted. Neville looked at the floor. "They are keys," he muttered.

"Yeah, they are," Ron said with a frown. "OH! One of the keys opens the door. We have to use the brooms to get it!"

"V-V-Very good, Mr. Weasley," Professor Quirrell said with a smile. "C-C-Choose who will f-f-fly to get the k-k-key," the professor said as he stood in front of the locked door.

Harry gritted his teeth as he gave Ron and Hermione a sharp look. He saw confusion on their faces but quickly answered, "Ron will get the key." He flashed a grin at his friend.

It took Ron a little time to find and catch the only silver key among the sea of bronze ones. Hermione gave Harry a piercing look as they watched Ron flying around the large room. It took a few minutes before Ron was able to catch the key. With a triumphant yell, he landed by the door and passed the key to Hermione. Harry was about to say something when a flash of light flew over his shoulder. Neville pitched forward. "NO!" Harry cried and turned, drawing his wand. Ron got hit with another flash of light a moment later, slumping to the floor with a confused look on his face.

Hermione screamed and shot a spell at Quirrell. Harry completed his turn and shot a spell at the professor too. Quirrell blocked both spells with ease. "What did we talk about, Potter!" he asked in a laughing, cruel voice, "cease or she dies!"

"Hermione, stop!" Harry called but didn't lower his wand.

"I'm running out of time, Dumbledore the, great fool, will realize the Ministry didn't need him in a little bit. We must speed this up. Your friends are not dead, yet. If you fail to do as I want, I will kill them," Quirrell promised with a grin.

Hermione trembled as she stared between Harry and Quirrell. "Let's… let's get this over with," Harry mumbled and took Hermione by the arm. "It'll be okay once Quirrell gets the Philosopher's Stone," he explained.

"No talking and put away your wands. If either of you draws your wand again I will kill the Mudblood. Please give me a reason to do so, Harry. I will finish the rest of these tests," Quirrell ordered, keeping his wand aimed at the pair.

Harry and Hermione led the way as they entered the next room. A large chess set sat on either side. He saw humanoid figures with blank faces for each of the pieces. Harry wondered if they had to play to get across. Quirrell began to chant behind them, causing him to tense up. He felt Hermione tense beside him as they looked back at the professor. He waved his wand and muttered under his breath. Harry caught a "yes Master" more than once during the minute they waited.

The white king on the other side of the chessboard fell to his knees and toppled over, exploding into white shards of stone. "Go to the other door," Quirrell ordered and pushed Hermione forward. She stumbled and Harry caught her.

Two massive Mountain Trolls sat on either side of the wide room. One picked their nose while the other tested his club against his head. A hollow thumping sound echoed around the large room with every hit of the club. The smell of putrid awful assaulted his nose as his eyes began to water. Between his head hurting from his scar and the smell, he felt like throwing his hands up and walking away, regardless of the cost. When he remembered his friends and the danger he'd placed them in, he calmed down and fought to think through his headache.

Quirrell stepped in front of them and waved his wand. The club in one of the troll's hands wrapped itself around the troll's neck and squeezed. Harry could hear the wood splinter and crack as it dug into the troll's throat. With another flick of his wand, Quirrell caused the other troll's club to lift off the ground and begin to club itself over the troll's head. Meaty thunks echoed around the room as the troll tried to get a hold of his club. Another flick and the ground became slick, causing the struggling trolls to fall. The gasping troll tried to get to its feet but sunk back to the floor, its eyes bulging.

Hermione covered her eyes as the club brained the second troll to death. Wet squishes echoed around the room as the club continued its relentless assault well after the troll had gone still. Harry's stomach lurched as he watched bits of green gore splatter against the wall. "Useful things, trolls," Quirrell said conversationally and led them to the next room.

"You let the troll in on Halloween," Harry accused. The professor laughed and continued on without answering.

A row of seven differently shaped potion bottles sat on a small table in a line. One bottle lay on its side, facing the black fire that had sprung up on the other side of the room to block the door. "Severus does like his riddles and dark magic," Quirrell chuckled and waved his wand. "This test pleased my Master," he added as he strode into the room.

The black fire dimmed and after a minute disappeared. "Come, the last challenge awaits you, Potter."

They entered the last room, causing the torches along the circular room to spring to life. A warm, comfortable feeling spread through Harry's chest as he thought he smelled a faint hint of lemon. "I know how the Mirror of Erised works, however, you must discover how to get the Stone," Quirrell demanded and shoved Harry to the center of the room.

"Oh… no," Harry gasped as he realized what the professor said.

"You've had some experience with the mirror before?" Quirrell asked as he dragged Hermione to one side, pointing his wand at her face. "Cooperate and she doesn't die, Harry," he warned.

Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded to Hermione and gave her his best confident smile. It felt forced and fake. "Step into the mirror, tell me what you see," Quirrell ordered.

Harry stepped in front of the mirror and fought to keep his heart from hammering out of his chest. "I see," he started but a muffled voice echoed around the chamber.

"DO NOT LIE," the voice hissed, a cold, cruel edge to the voice. Harry shivered and felt his scar burn. "Let me speak to the boy first," the voice continued.

"You are not strong enough, Master," Quirrell pleaded.

"I have strength enough… for this! Obey me!" the voice hissed and Quirrell screamed. He dropped to his knees and took a ragged breath before unwrapping his turban.

Harry fought the desire to rush the professor but stopped when he noticed Quirrell's wand still pointed at Hermione. The purple turban fell away to reveal Quirrell's bald head. He stood and took a step toward Harry. Hermione gasped and shrunk back in fear. Quirrell turned and Harry saw what Hermione had. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, a face replaced it. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. Two dark eyes stared at Harry and a small gash near Quirrell's neck stretched into a sneer.

"Harry… Potter… we meet again," the voice hissed.

"Voldemort," Harry whispered and fought down his churning stomach. The disfigured face looked revolting.

"See what I have become?" Voldemort asked. "Mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share a body with another… but there have always been faithful servants willing to share their hearts and minds. Unicorn blood strengthened my waning power and kept me sustained for the past few weeks. All of it leading up to this. Potter, retrieve the stone or I will kill this Mudblood girl like I killed your mother! She begged to save you, begged like your father did."

Harry fought the searing pain in his forehead. "I… I…" he stammered and stumbled backward toward the mirror. The blinding pain made it hard for him to think.

"Don't be a fool," the twisted face snarled. "Get the Stone, boy."

Harry turned trying to fight his urge to run, to attack, to do something other than stand there as his friend was being threatened. He looked in the mirror, unafraid of his past, more afraid of the future. The glass shimmered and cleared, the silvery mist behind the glass dissipating. A mirror image of himself stood looking back at him. His reflection morphed into an older version of himself with a goatee and a scar running across one cheek. He thought he looked battle worn, like many of the grizzled veterans that guest spoke at Providence. A young boy appeared beside the older version of himself. Frankie's round-face split into a wide grin.

"What do you see?" Voldemort hissed from almost beside Harry.

Harry could feel the cold, dark void beside him. Quirrell had approached without him realizing. "I see an older version of myself. I look powerful," he muttered as he watched Frankie pull something out of his pocket. A blood-red stone appeared in the boy's pudgy hands. He slipped it into the older version of Harry's pocket.

"What else!" the cold voice demanded.

Harry froze as he felt the weight of something heavy fall into his pocket. In that moment, time stopped for him. His heart froze, his vision was reduced to a narrow pinprick of light, as he realized he had to make a decision. A grizzled voice spoke into his ear, a faint whisper of a memory.

"There are no winners in many hostage situations. They deployed us to get back those families trapped in the hotel. Everything we did was in vain. However, we fought, we fought and destroyed those evil men and avenged those poor people."

Time sped back up as his vision cleared. He knew Voldemort wanted him dead, knew how weakened the Dark Lord was. "I have it," he called and reached into his pocket.

"Yesssss," Voldemort hissed. "Give it to me," he ordered.

Harry turned to see Quirrell point his wand away from Hermione as he turned around. "RUN!" he screamed at Hermione and charged at Quirrell.

The hand-to-hand practice, dormitory beatings, shower scuffles, malicious taunts, and the knowledge Quirrell had burned him fueled his rage and purpose. He caught the professor by surprise as he punched with all his might at the softest, most vulnerable spot on a man's body. Harry felt his fist slide off the meaty thigh of his opponent as Quirrell turned toward him. Something soft gave way under his knuckles a moment later.

"KILL THEM BOTH!" Voldemort cried from the back of Quirrell's head as the professor mewled in agony, his legs buckling.

Harry grabbed for Quirrell's outstretched hand clutching his wand. He used his open palm, like Instructor Elliot had taught him, to hit the professor in the nose. He'd intended to disorient and stun Quirrell, but realized with a gasp his attack left a burn mark on the wizard's face. Quirrell screamed in agony as he clutched his face, dropping his wand.

"Run!" Harry yelled at Hermione when he saw her standing by the door. She jumped and bolted from the room. He intended to follow, but a hand grabbed at his leg. His scar burned and throbbed, causing him to cry out.

"THE STONE! GIVE IT TO ME!" Voldemort screeched from the back of Quirrell's head. Quirrell was screaming in pain and seemed unaware of what his body was doing.

Harry grabbed Quirrell's hand latched onto his leg and watched with horror and satisfaction as it burned. His scar blazed with pain as Quirrell's other hand tried to grab at Harry's robes. Blisters and boils appeared as the hand turned black. The skin was rent open as fire seemed to blossom from Quirrell's veins. Harry screamed with Quirrell as his head felt like it would burst open. He gasped and fell beside the flailing body of his professor.

"KILL HIM! THE STONE!" Voldemort's voice kept screaming through Harry's pain. He thought he heard other voices calling him as well, "Harry! HARRY!"

**XXXXX**

"… will need more rest," a stern voice said, bringing Harry out of his dream about blood-red stones and beatings at Providence. His body ached and his head felt like someone had split it open with a mallet. The recent events started to piece themselves back into his memory. He felt like vomiting when he sat up.

"Easy, there," a warm voice called.

Harry felt two strong hands hold his chest and back as his vision returned. He turned his head to look into the bright, twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore. "Uh," he muttered, trying to make sense of everything.

"Good afternoon, Harry," the Headmaster said with a small smile. "I understand you had quite the adventure."

Harry felt his eye twitch at the word adventure. "The stone, sir! Voldemort! HERMIONE!" he cried out as pictures popped into his head.

"Calm yourself, dear boy. You are a little behind the times," Dumbledore said with a smile. He leaned back and removed his hands from Harry's chest and back. "Lay back and relax, everything has been handled. You having done most of the work," he finished with a small chuckle.

"Hermione, Ron, Neville, Sara? Are they all okay?" Harry questioned looking into Dumbledore's twinkling eyes.

"They fared much better than you did. We have cleared Sara of any dark magic, Ron and Neville were merely unconscious, and Hermione is well. She is worried about you most of all. We all were for a while there."

"What happened?!" Harry asked, trying to sit back up again.

"Harry, please, calm down. I do not want to get thrown out by Madam Pomfrey. Here, have a piece of chocolate," Dumbledore said and passed a rather large bar of chocolate to Harry.

"Uh, thanks?" Harry said and took the bar. He noticed a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop. A suspicious red and gold firecracker lay among the pile. He fought to contain a laugh that bubbled up.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," Dumbledore explained with a smile. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the entire school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley tried to send you a rather ingenious firecracker that happened to go off in the corridor. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, felt it might not have been safe and confiscated six other firecrackers from the pile."

"How long have I been here?" Harry asked as he goggled at the pile of cards, flowers, and small plants on another table.

"Three days," Dumbledore chuckled. "Your friends will be most relieved to know you've come round, they have been extremely worried."

"The Stone, sir, and Voldemort," Harry prompted.

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell or rather Voldemort did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to save you from a similar possession attempt by Voldemort. You however, were doing a very good job on your own, preventing him from getting it.

"He burned!" Harry gasped as more memories flooded in.

"Quirrell did," the Headmaster agreed with a slow nod. "Your mother's protection stays with you still against the Dark Lord's touch. She died saving you, old and powerful magic. Love is the single greatest magic we as wizards could ever perform."

"Love?" Harry questioned, unfamiliar with the concept behind the word. He knew what it meant but struggled to put feelings to the word itself. "You got the Stone back for Mr. Flamel?" Harry questioned.

"You know about Nicholas! Well done," Dumbledore said with a smile. "The Stone has been destroyed."

"WHAT?!" Harry cried out, horrified at the idea. The Philosopher's Stone grated eternal life, among other wondrous capabilities. "Won't they die?"

"To the young, I'm sure that seems incredible. Knowingly giving up eternal life. However, to Nicholas and Perenelle, who have been alive for a very long time, it is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. Eternal life and infinite wealth, two things many humans have striven for since the dawn of man; however, humans tend to choose precisely those things that are bad for them to reach such heights."

Harry sat back and tried to understand what the Headmaster was telling him. After a minute, during with Dumbledore hummed to himself, he asked the question most on his mind. "Professor?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Mhm, yes, Harry?" Dumbledore said, looking down at him over his half-moon spectacles.

"Voldemort is coming back, isn't he? He never truly died."

"Tom has been fascinated and deeply afraid of death since he was a student at Hogwarts. He will do everything in his power to return to the heights he achieved before his fall, yes," Dumbledore said in a low voice. Harry thought the old wizard sounded sad. "He shows little mercy to his followers and his enemies alike. Voldemort will continue to look for ways to return, to find another body to share. He is not truly alive and cannot be killed. This has delayed his return and Harry, the entire wizarding world owes you a debt of gratitude for delaying his return to power. If we can continue to delay his return over and over, well, he may never return and fade into nothing."

Harry nodded but stopped as it made his head hurt. "Sir," he asked and paused. "Sir, could I know the truth about a few things?"

"Ah! The truth," Dumbledore said just above a whisper. "The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and therefore should be treated with great caution. If it is in my power to tell you, I will. If I cannot, then, I must beg forgiveness as I do not want to lie to you."

"Uh… Voldemort said my mother begged to save me. Said my father begged to save me. You said she died to protect me. Why did Voldemort want to kill me?" Harry asked in a small voice as he clenched his fists.

"Alas, the first question you ask, I cannot answer. Not today, not yet. You will know, one day, again when you are older. When you are ready, I will tell you," the Headmaster answered with a sigh.

"What is older? What is ready? Why can't I know now?!" Harry asked, his voice getting louder.

"Calm, calm," Dumbledore soothed as he sat forward. "Some truths are not easy to bear, some truths could tear you apart from the inside. Worry not, I promise to tell you the whole story, just not now, not today."

"Why did I burn Quirrell?" he asked, trying to ignore his pounding head.

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize love as powerful as the one your mother had for you leaves its own mark. No visible sign, no magical trace… to be loved so deeply, even though they are gone will offer you protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so loved," Dumbledore answered with a small smile. "Your mother may have begged for your life, but your father put up a fight. He did not go quietly into that dark night."

"How about the Invisibility Cloak? Did you send it, sir?"

"Ah, your father left it in my possession shortly before they were attacked. I thought you might like it as he once did. He mainly used his for sneaking off into the kitchens while he was at school."

"One last thing, sir," Harry said, his chest tightening. "Quirrell talked about how Snape," he started but Professor Dumbledore interrupted him.

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry," Dumbledore chided gently.

"The Potions Master, then. Quirrell said he hates me because my father humiliated him in school. I thought a lot of the attacks were caused by… Professor Snape."

"Well, your father and Professor Snape did rather detest each other. Not unlike you and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive. He saved his life."

"He did?!" Harry asked, trying to piece together the rough puzzle pieces of information he had.

"Yes, he did. Funny thing, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear to be in your father's debt. I do believe he worked so hard this year to protect you is because he felt it would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace."

Harry tried to wrap his head around the new information. He stopped after a minute and shook his head. The pain flared up again, causing him to groan. "Sir, one last thing, uh, again," he asked.

"Just the one?" Dumbledore said with a knowing grin.

"How did the stone get out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now that, I'm glad you asked. It was a difficult and between you and me, brilliant, piece of magic. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone, find it but not use it, would be able to get it. Otherwise they'd just see themselves making tons of gold or drinking the Elixir of Life. Sometimes, my brain surprises even me. Now, enough questions. You need rest and your friends are anxious to see you."

"Thank you, professor, for everything," Harry called as Dumbledore rose from his seat.

"You are most welcome. Learn, grow, and enjoy your time at Hogwarts. I believe I will see you once more before the end of term in a few days. Unless I am very much mistaken, you do not want to spend your summer bouncing from hotel to hotel, correct?"

"They have five minutes," Madam Pomfrey called from the other side of the room. Dumbledore left with a smile as Hermione, Ron, and Neville appeared by the curtains.

"Harry!" Hermione cried and moved to give him a hug. He was very glad she didn't when she saw the look on his face. His head was still sore.

"Oh, Harry, I thought you'd died. You were screaming and thrashing while, while, while he… he was trying to hover over your face," Hermione shuddered and crossed her arms.

"Mate, what happened?" Ron asked. Neville nodded in agreement at the question.

Harry told them the entire story from when he left the Gryffindor Common Room. They gasped and shouted when he explained Quirrell was the one that almost killed him. Hermione told her side of the story, becoming suspicious in the third-floor corridor but not knowing how to let Harry know. Ron and Neville looked pale and sick as Harry told the rest of the story. Hermione hadn't told them everything it seemed. When Harry got to the part about Voldemort ordering Harry to get the Stone or killing Hermione, Ron wrapped an arm around his friend. Hermione shuddered and tears leaked from her eyes.

"So… the Philosopher's Stone is gone? It's been destroyed? Nicholas Flamel will just, die?" Ron questioned.

"That's what Dumbledore said. He said something like 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

"Great-Uncle Algie mentioned his father said something like that before he passed," Neville said with a shrug. "Maybe it's true when you've lived for two hundred years like Great-Great-Grand… oh, I can't remember if he was Grandfather or Uncle, Frankus did." Harry laughed and noticed Hermione smiled.

"I met Dumbledore as he came out of the room with the trolls. He took one look at me and bounded past with a scared look on his face. He shouted something and I went back to look. He chased V-V-Voldemort off you, scooped you up in his arms and ran. I helped Ron and Neville as Professor McGonagall appeared to carry us back up to the Hospital Wing," Hermione said as she finished the last bit of her story. Everyone was quiet for a time.

"End-of-year feast is tomorrow. Slytherins won this year by twenty points over Hufflepuff. Everyone was shocked Hufflepuff did so well this year. At least we'll get a good dinner before we head home," Ron said as his stomach growled in agreement.

"Everyone, I want to say..." Harry started and stopped as he gathered his thoughts. "I want to say sorry you got involved in Quirrell and Voldemort's plan," he ignored the shudders that ran through his friends. "I wanted to warn you, but, didn't want anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to say thank you for your support."

"We didn't do anything, mate. We thought it was some dumb extra credit assignment we couldn't say no to," Ron said with a hoarse laugh.

"We'd be there for you even if it wasn't," Neville interjected with a small smile. "We're your friends, Harry." Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement.

"Still, thank you," Harry finished and smiled.

The professors decorated the Great Hall in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. More banners hung high in the air above the House tables. As Harry entered, the entire Great Hall fell silent before booming to life as everyone started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat beside Neville, who sat across from Ron and Hermione. His neck prickled as he tried to ignore the stares from everyone in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore arrived minutes later and took his place at the small podium in front of the High Table. The Great Hall quietened down and became silent.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said with a wide smile. "I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are a little fuller than they were. You have a whole summer ahead of you to forget what you've learned before the next year starts," he said and paused as laughter scattered through the hall.

"Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Ravenclaw, with three hundred and twelve; in third, Gryffindor, with four hundred and twenty-three; second, Hufflepuff, with four hundred and fifty-two and Slytherin with four hundred and seventy-two!"

The Slytherin table cheered and stamped their feet. Draco Malfoy banged his goblet on the table. Harry laughed at the sight but was one of the few in the Great Hall that did.

"Well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore said with a smile. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The hall went very still. The Slytherin's froze as they looked toward the Gryffindor table and at Harry in particular. Harry felt his smile falter.

"Ahem," Dumbledore said as he cleared his throat. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let's see. Yes, to Mrs. Hermione Granger for the use of cool logic and a desire to save her friends in a desperate situation, I award ten points."

The Gryffindor table burst into cheers. Hermione blushed and hid her face as Ron patted her on the back, cheering louder. The table fell silent when the Headmaster spoke again.

"To Mr. Ronald Weasley," Dumbledore continued. Ron's face went red as he goggled at the Headmaster. "For skill and nerve in the face of the unknown, I award ten points."

The shouts from the Gryffindor table were louder as Harry beamed at his friend. He heard Percy shouting how Ron had gotten past Professor Flitwick's test on the broom.

"To Mr. Neville Longbottom," Dumbledore said over the din. "For knowledge and courage to jump into the fire, I award ten points!"

Neville looked like he wanted to faint as he slid under the table. Fred and George appeared and pulled him out from under the table. They carried him on their shoulders and shouted his name. A warm feeling spread through Harry's chest at the sight.

"Finally," Dumbledore called. The entire room went quiet. Harry realized Gryffindor had taken second place by one point over Hufflepuff. It looked like others in the Great Hall had realized this fact as well. "To Mr. Harry Potter," Dumbledore called and looked Harry in the eye. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House…" the entire room held its breath, "twenty points!"

Harry's ears hurt from the screams and cries of the Gryffindors around him. He felt bodies push him down onto the bench as his fellow House mates piled on top of him. Laughing and cursing them, he pushed them off and grinned. They'd won the House Cup by one point.

"I believe, we need a change of decoration!" Dumbledore called over the noise. Ravenclaws and even Hufflepuffs were celebrating the downfall of the Slytherins. With a wave of his wand, all the banners in the hall changed into the scarlet and gold of Gryffindor with the proud lion standing in the middle. The green decorations around the hall became scarlet and the table cloths became gold.

Harry enjoyed himself despite his pounding head. He joked and laughed with his friends and House mates. Harry talked with a few of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws he'd befriend over the course of the year and ate until he couldn't walk. He and Snape locked eyes and he realized the Potion's Master still disliked him. All was well. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins looked livid. Harry noticed Daphne looked amused by the entire event.

"Headmaster, you wanted to see me?" Harry asked as he stepped into the Headmaster's Office. He'd received a summons at breakfast the day they were to leave for summer.

"Ah, yes! Come, sit," Dumbledore called as he took a seat by the fireplace.

Harry sat and looked at the old wizard. He remembered Ron telling him that Dumbledore was his magical guardian. "Sir?"

"We spoke in the Hospital Wing about your living arrangements. I have taken the liberty of asking a friend if she would be interested in having you over the summer," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I had the distinct feeling you did not want to live in the Leaky Cauldron or go back to your life of bouncing between hotels, am I correct?"

"Yes, very much, professor! I liked it at the Leaky Cauldron, but I don't think Tom liked having me there," Harry admitted with a laugh. He thought about what Maria had told him.

"Tom is not one to have high-profile wizards stay with him for long periods of time. No matter, I believe Mrs. Molly Weasley has offered to take you in for the summer. Does that agree with you?"

"Yes! I could spend more time with Ron and the twins," Harry said, sitting up in his chair. "Unless, could I just stay here and you know, use the library?"

"I'm afraid it is against school policy for anyone to remain at Hogwarts after the term has ended," Dumbledore answered with a piercing look at Harry. "I'm glad you agree with me that spending time with the Weasley family will be a good thing. Now, I believe you have yet to receive your final marks."

"I think we get them before we board the train or we get them tomorrow, sir?" Harry questioned looking at the envelope Dumbledore had produced from his robes.

"Correct on both accounts. However, I'm taking the liberty to give you your marks now. Please do not tell anyone else, as someone could see it as favoritism," Dumbledore said with a wink. He passed a heavy envelope to Harry, which reminded him of two other heavy envelopes he'd received.

"Professor, I just remember," Harry muttered and dug into his robes. He pulled out the letter Quirrell had sent him through the Imperiused Sara. "Quirrell said the last spell on this list was the one that caused my burns. Is there a way to reverse them?"

Professor Dumbledore's face became serious as he took the envelope from Harry and inspected it. He drew his wand and waved it over the front. "Curious, very curious," he muttered.

"I'm sorry, what is curious?" Harry asked as he peered at the envelope, wondering what he'd missed about it.

"The rune used to seal the wax is an Unknown. It represents Darkness, Death, and the number Seven in the Runic Alphabet. Seven is a magically powerful number. Darkness is what Tom thrives off of and fears Death. A strange and fitting rune for him to use. The parchment was not bewitched to do you any harm, something I am greatful for," Dumbledore answered. He withdrew the parchments and read both of them. His face turned darker as he read the parchment with the spells on it.

"I am very glad you didn't try to use any of these. If you had, well, you'd have only gotten to the second spell. Even if you hadn't tried too hard to cast it, the first spell is a trap. A magic trap that would have placed a curse on your body. Without an identifier object, something to attach the spell to, it would have latched onto yourself. The second spell would have caused the trap to spring. I'm sorry to say, it would have been a gruesome way to die," Dumbledore finished with a sigh. "The last spell is not spell I've ever encountered. I believe Quirrell may have made it up or one of Tom's creations. I would like to keep this list for safekeeping."

"Please do! I don't want that list!" Harry gasped as he pulled his head back. "Uh, thank you for telling me, sir." Harry debated for a moment before asking his second question. "Sir?" he asked as he stood.

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore said as he stood.

"Why was I missing for three years when the Hogwarts letter found me?" Harry asked as he pocketed the letter the Headmaster had given him.

"Ah, I wondered if you would make the connection. You see, I tried using the Magical Post, through the Ministry to find you. The only problem was, you never touched the letters we sent. I'm sure someone at Providence Preparatory Boarding School was annoyed at receiving a veritable ton of letters addressed to a one, Mr. H. Potter. Something else I didn't account for was what school they sent you to. You see, the last wizarding war affected more than wizards. The, then, Prime Minister of Britain sent his only son to a preparatory school. Multiple Muggle schools were warded and given Ministry level protection to throw off any Death Eaters from finding where children of prominent government officials lived. It saved many lives then and helped hide you from the wizarding world for three years." Dumbledore smiled and spread his hands. "It took me some time to unravel everything after I found you again. For not finding you sooner, I apologize," he said with a bow.

"Thank you for finding me, Professor Dumbledore. I love magic and being at Hogwarts," Harry answered and waved off the old wizard's apology.

"Enjoy your night and your summer, Harry," Dumbledore said as he stood. "I also want to say, very well done," he finished with a beaming smile and a sparkle in his eye. The Headmaster's eyes fell to the letter in Harry's pocket.

Harry waited to open his exam results until he was with his friends. Their letters were sitting on their trunks at the foot of their beds as they packed to leave for the Hogwarts Express. All the wardrobes were empty, trunks were packed, and pets rounded up as the students headed down to the platform.

"How did you do?!" Hermione asked in a rush as she caught up with Ron, Harry, and Neville.

"Haven't looked yet," Harry said with a laugh and patted his robe pocket. He noticed Hermione's scandalized look and had to slap her hand away from trying to reach in his robe. "Hey!"

"Come on! I want to know!" she complained and turned to Ron. "How did you do? Neville?" she asked, giving Harry a glare.

"I got good marks!" Ron said with a grin. "Only bad marks were in History of Magic and Potions."

Neville shrugged and glanced at Harry. "I got good marks too. I didn't do well in Potions and History of Magic, but I got really good marks in my other subjects."

Harry grinned at his friend. "I knew you could do it in Transfiguration and Charms! Well done! What did you get?"

"I got an Acceptable in Transfiguration and Exceeds Expectations in Charms," Neville muttered.

Harry cheered and clapped his friend on his back. "Well done! That was all you, Neville. I didn't do a whole lot to help. You did all the hard work. What did you get, Ron?

Ron handed over his letter as they reached the platform. Hermione and Neville crowded around as Harry read. "Astronomy: Acceptable; Charms: Exceeds Expectations; Defense Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations; Herbology: Exceeds Expectations; History of Magic: Acceptable; Potions, Poor; Transfiguration: Acceptable," he read and clapped his friend on the back. "Well done, you worked hard for these marks."

Hermione bit her lip and looked over Neville's card. "Outstanding in Herbology! If you didn't get that then we were all doomed," she joked and continued to read. "Dreadful in Potions isn't bad because it was Professor Snape giving the test. You're potion work is fine, Neville," she consoled. "These are really good, Mrs. Longbottom will be proud."

Neville grinned and looked at Harry. "Where's yours, mate?"

Harry laughed and produced the unopened envelope. Hermione looked aghast he hadn't opened it already. She tore it from his fingers and gingerly opened the letter. She read aloud:

Mr. H. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have passed your first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will be allowed to enter your second year of study next term. Below are the marks you received:

Astronomy: Outstanding

Charms: Outstanding

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations

Herbology: Outstanding

History of Magic: Exceeds Expectations

Potions: Exceeds Expectations

Transfiguration: Outstanding

"Snape gave you an Exceeds Expectations!?" Ron gasped and reread over the small card. "Mate, did you blackmail him?"

Harry laughed, his heart hammering in his chest. It would be a good summer. Parchments got passed around on the platform that students couldn't use magic outside of Hogwarts or they would receive punishments up to and including expulsion. Maria's face floated in his mind as he read the notice. He suppressed a grin and noticed Fred and George wore knowing grins despite their howls of unfairness at not being able to do schoolwork.

The Hogwarts Express took them through the country as they wound their way back to King's Cross. Hermione showed everyone her marks. It surprised no one to see all Outstandings for her results except in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry was sure she was the best of the year and deserved her place with how hard she worked.

The four friends played exploding snap and talked the hours away as the train chugged along. Malfoy tried to cause trouble but got sent running when Fred and George set Lee's giant tarantula loose on him and his goons. Ron led them off the train and onto the platform. A short, slightly plump, kindly-looking woman with red hair embraced her four sons with a beaming smile. She hugged each of them and kissed them on their cheeks, much to the boy's annoyance. A small girl with red hair stood behind her, looking around with wide, excited eyes. He thought the girl must be Ginny, Ron's little sister.

Mrs. Weasley turned from her boys and locked eyes with Harry, who was standing to the side, his trunk at his feet. "You must be Harry, dear. My name is Molly Weasley. You are most welcome to say at the Burrow as long as you like," she said and embraced him in a strong, warm hug. When she fixed his tie, he wondered if this was how mothers acted with their sons.

_**AN:** Thank you for reading my version of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. This is the first book in a series of seven books. I want to show a different series of events that change Harry Potter. I keep my profile updated with news and updates every few weeks on my writing process and story updates. I've finished and posted the second book in the series, Harry Potter and the Sacrifice for One. I hope you've enjoyed the series so far and will continue to do so. Please feel free to leave a comment with constructive criticism as I am attempting to further improve my writing. Thank you again for reading!_


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